


When the Chips are Down - Parts One and Two

by Sarah Problem (SarahProblem)



Series: Starsky & Hutch Virtual Slash Season Stories by Sarah Problem [2]
Category: Starsky & Hutch
Genre: Complete, Established Relationship, M/M, Starsky & Hutch Slash Virtual Season
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-25
Updated: 2017-11-25
Packaged: 2019-02-06 16:16:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 54,567
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12821262
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SarahProblem/pseuds/Sarah%20Problem
Summary: Year 05 - Episodes 11 and 12With a few days off, the guys are gambling on having a good time...but will The Baron let them?





	1. Part One

**Author's Note:**

> This story is part of the "Starsky & Hutch Virtual Slash Season", Year Five, Episodes 11 and 12. You can find information about the Virtual Slash Season at Fanlore(dot)org, with a link.

 

When the Chips Are Down, Part One  
 by Sarah Problem  
 With thanks to Lucy

[Starsky & Hutch Virtual Slash Season - Year 05, Episode 11]      

 

***

 

 

 

            The first thing Starsky noticed as he stepped from the cabin and past the plane's open door was the wonderful, clean smell of the midnight air. It was cool and fresh, filled with the scents of the desert and city, mixed with a bit of pine. Taking a deep lungful of it, he waited his turn to descend the plane steps and wished he could share the moment with his partner. Hutch, who had been forced to sit several rows ahead of Starsky, was already on the tarmac. The plane had been full, despite the late hour, and the passengers between them were just as anxious to get off as he was. There wouldn't be catching up with Hutch until after Starsky got to the tarmac himself.

            He hoped the separate seats on the plane would be the only glitch on this vacation. This whole trip had been sprung on Hutch at the last minute, and Starsky knew his partner hadn't been happy to discover that all the arrangements had been made without his consent. Starsky wanted these few days off to go well--needed them to--and even the small inconveniences could cause more friction between them.

            It had started innocently enough. They'd had a bad few weeks, working double shifts for a while when the summer flu hit the station. Street crime seemed to increase, and their court appearances hadn't gone as well as they should have. It felt as if the two of them had barely had time to take care of their personal business and get a few hours' sleep before they had been called in again. He and Hutch hadn't had a minute to spend on themselves during that time.

            He had been planning a vacation for the two of them since Sweet Alice's death. He'd collected all the brochures on motels, rental cars and attractions to visit. He even had the plane tickets priced in advance and a credit card ready to pay for it all. It was to be a surprise, and all he'd needed was Hutch's agreement and the two of them would have a fun-filled vacation in Reno, Nevada, whenever they were ready. So when Dobey had given them three whole days off, Starsky had taken the opportunity and run with it.

            The only problem was that Hutch had been tied up at a late DA meeting at the courthouse at the time. Starsky had tried to reach him by phone and on the radio but could not get a hold of him. Feeling the minutes tick away, Starsky had taken the plunge and booked two seats on a flight to Reno that evening. He called the motel and car rental agency from the station and put down his deposit, leaving them only a few hours to pack one large carry-on each, cash some checks at Huggy's and get on the plane.

             _At least he didn't blow up at me when I told him. I know he's pissed, but I had to get us out of Bay City. Since this whole trip is my treat, he can't be too upset with me. I hope._

            As soon as Starsky's feet touched the tarmac, he hurried around the other passengers to try to catch up with Hutch. There were a few spotlights to illuminate their way, but the night sky seemed to dwarf them. The moon had passed beyond the mountains, leaving a heavy blanket of ebony sky above, broken only by the barely distinguishable silhouette of the mountain ranges that surrounded them and a few stars that managed to shine through. Glancing around at ground level, he could see the lights of the city twinkle around them, the various colors reminding him of Christmas or carnival lights at night. Starsky felt as if he were walking on a different planet. The differences in the smells, the view, and the sound of the whole area were _that_ different from Bay City.

            Catching up with Hutch, Starsky glanced at his face. He looked tired, uninterested in their arrival and their surroundings, despite his quick stride.

             _Can't blame him. We only got off duty a few hours ago, had to pack in a rush, just to sit in an airport while the plane was delayed. Then to have our seats get screwed up. Having to sit next to a crying baby for an hour and a half must have used up the last bit of energy he had. But I'll make it up to him. He'll be glad to really get a chance to unwind and put some ghosts behind him._

            "Hey, Hutch!" Starsky moved closer to him as they neared the terminal entrance. "Can you smell that air? Smells even better than Las Vegas! I bet that must be sagebrush, huh?"

            Hutch didn't answer, nor did he slow his pace.

            It took them a couple of minutes to reach the terminal, the crowd of luggage-laden passengers slowing them down at the door. Inside the airport, it was almost as bright as day and as colorful--and as crowded--as any casino Starsky had ever seen. Against the walls were the normal chairs and trappings of any airport, but right in the middle were several long rows of back-to-back slot machines. The sounds of coins dropping into slots and mechanical levers being pulled filled the air.

             _They really are everywhere, just like in Vegas! They'll put those machines anywhere they think they can get some spare change out of you: grocery stores, gas stations, johns.... Guess an airport shouldn't be exempt._

            He didn't realize he'd been staring until he caught sight of Hutch watching him, tired eyes regarding him with a hint of amusement that matched the slight smile on his lips.

            "You going to stand there in shock, or can you manage to find our hotel? C'mon, Starsk, all I want to do is crash. Let's go!"

            Even though the words were impatient, it was clear that Hutch wasn't totally put off by the impromptu trip. Once they'd gotten a good night's sleep....

             _Maybe there's hope for this vacation yet!_

            He didn't realize how worried he'd been about Hutch's reaction until the weariness of the day seemed to creep over him, and the thought of a nice, large bed with Hutch in his arms seemed like all he could ever ask for.

            "Sure thing. Just let me find the rental car information and we can get outta here." He set his carry-all down beside him, glad that they had both packed light enough not to have to check in any luggage. He was reaching into his pocket for the information when he was run into from behind, almost pitching him forward, as the person behind him tripped over his bag and grabbed on to Starsky for support.

            Grabbing at the falling man, Starsky was able to stop him before he hit the floor. Hutch was suddenly there, on the other side of the stranger, helping Starsky pull him to his feet.

            "You okay?" Hutch asked the stranger kindly.

            "Oh, my! I am so sorry! It was my fault, really it was!" The man said, looking flushed and embarrassed, pushing thick glasses back up to the bridge of his nose. The tall, thin man was dressed in a light blue polyester jacket with matching pants and a blue paisley shirt. He looked a bit harried, his thick brown hair out of place from his near tumble, and his mustache a bit mussed.

            "I'm the one who's sorry!" Starsky replied, feeling badly as he realized he must have put his bag down in the man's way. "I didn't realize I was blocking traffic."

            "It's my eyesight," the man explained as he brushed himself off. He waved toward his thick frames. "I need to get a stronger prescription, but I've been putting it off."

             _A stronger prescription?_ Starsky thought, feeling even worse for the guy. _Those things are practically an inch thick already!_

            "My name's Roger, Roger Martini."

            The stranger held out his hand to Starsky, who shook it politely.

            "I'm Dave Starsky, and this is my friend, Ken Hutchinson. Nice to meet you."

            "Nice to meet you both." Roger extended his hand to Hutch. As his partner shook the offered hand, Starsky could see that Hutch wasn't any more anxious to draw out this meeting than he was. Roger, though, looked as if he were interested in a long conversation. "Are you two visitors or here on business?"

            "Ah...vacation," Starsky answered quickly, hoping the man really wasn't interested.

            "Oh, well, that sounds wonderful!" Roger said enthusiastically. "This is really a wonderful place to--"

            "Oh. Uh...my friend and I really need to get to our hotel," Hutch interrupted. "Late check-in, you know, but it was--"

            "Hotel?" Roger repeated, looking even more pleased than he had before. "You know, I made plans so quickly that I never did arrange for a room anywhere. And since it's after midnight I was afraid that nothing I could afford would be open. Do you mind if I share a cab with you two, so I can see if your hotel has a room available at this hour?"

            Glancing at Hutch, Starsky saw him sigh and shrug with resignation. The man looked like he could use a little help getting around.

            "Well, um...actually we've got a rental car waiting for us," Starsky began. "But if you want to call the hotel to check on vacancies while we're getting our car, we'd be happy to give you a lift. If not, I'm sure a cabbie out front would know who might have some rooms left."

            "That sounds _perfect_!" Roger was grinning ear to ear now. "I'll grab my luggage and give the hotel a call. If you would be so kind as to wait for me by the front door, I'll meet you there."

            Starsky gave him the number from the brochure, which he finally found in the fourth pocket he searched, and gave Roger a friendly wave as he and Hutch headed for the rental car counter.

            "You know, Starsky, if you'd just learn to step out of the way once in a while--"

            "Hey, it wasn't _my_ fault! He ran into _me_ , remember? Poor guy looks like he must be blind as a bat. And he may not even be able to get a room."

            "Let's just hope the hotel is full. I'm not sure how long I can keep my eyes open, and I really don't feel like being friendly right now."

            Starsky couldn't blame him. the day had been too long already, and they were both ready to start their vacation by catching up on a lot of sleep.

             _But Ma always said it never hurt to be kind to strangers. You never knew when you'd need their help someday. And I don't think you can get any stranger than that guy._

            ~~~

 

            Almost an hour later, Starsky pulled a nondescript blue Chevy station wagon into the parking lot of the Green Chip Hotel. Roger had been able to get a room over the phone, so they had had to wait for him, as the plane was slow in getting the luggage unloaded. Then there was the delay trying to find the place, Starsky having made a couple of bad turns along the way.

            After the last wrong turn Hutch stayed quiet, no longer even making an attempt to carry on a conversation with Roger, who had not seemed to notice. Even as they pulled up to the hotel, the tall man continued to babble away in the back seat, his voice re-enforcing the nice little headache Starsky was nursing. Turning off the car, Starsky sat for a moment, letting Hutch and Roger get out first.

             _I can't believe this!_ _This can't be the hotel on the front of the brochure! That place looked really nice, but this place...._

            The hotel looked fifty years old, needed a paint job and half of the neon lights on the sign were burned out. It looked almost as old and worn as the car he was driving.

             _If I wasn't so tired...._

            But he was tired, the room was waiting for them and there wasn't anything to do but hope they could get a good night's sleep and start the next day on a better note.

             _Sorry, Hutch. I really had a better place in mind than this!_

          

 

***

 

 

 

             _I'm not going to say anything. It's too late to get angry or fight. I'm just going to let it go and relax, try to get some sleep._

            Hutch unpacked his bag on the double bed nearest the door, trying to ignore the stale, smoky smell of the ancient room. If it weren't for the traffic outside, he would have wanted to open the windows for some fresh air, but from the look of things they had probably been painted shut a century ago.

            The room itself was decorated in the same worn out hotel style that Hutch had seen a million times before, with a mish-mash of furniture and carpeting, wallpaper and bedcovers that had never matched and never would. With their luck, they'd find the plumbing and the mattresses just as old as the air-conditioner unit that whistled annoyingly as it tried to make the night just a little cooler. Heaven help it in the daytime.

             _At least we don't have to worry about sharing the room with Roger. I didn't think that guy would ever shut up!_

            Knowing he was too tired to be polite, Hutch kept as quiet as he could on the trip to the hotel. He had heard more about the man's plans to start divorce proceedings against his unfaithful wife than he had _ever_ wanted to know.

            Finding his shaving kit, he sat tiredly on the edge of the bed. Listening to Starsky move around in the bathroom, he pulled off shoes that were now too tight. He always had trouble sitting on a plane for long periods of time, and, even though the trip had only been an hour and a half, his legs had managed to cramp up on him. The poor baby next to him had been inconsolable, and the mother had taken his advice the wrong way. He had tried to tell her that the baby's ears were probably hurting because of the change in air pressure and that if she got the baby to suck on something it might be able take some of the pressure off. She had gotten into a snit, announced that she knew what she was doing and didn't need any advice, then had tried everything _but_ the bottle. Hutch had wondered at one point if the flight was ever going to end.

            To make matters worse, he hadn't even been given a choice of whether to come or not.

             _I can't believe Starsky did this! How could he make all these last minute plans without consulting me? He never mentioned it to me, didn't even show me any of the brochures he'd been collecting. Then as soon as we get some time off, he commits us to this vacation. Shit, what if I didn't_ feel _like doing anything but going home and_ sleeping _for three days?_

            Truthfully, he wasn't sure what he would have wanted to do. His first impulse would have been to sleep in and spend some time at the beach, make a trip up into the mountains, take some time to visit the Museum of Art or something that was quiet and slow-paced. Spend some time away from people, away from crowds. But Reno? Gambling, crowds and bright lights?

            He heard a tired cough from the bathroom, listened to the slow movements of his partner as he finished up for the night.

             _I'm not the only one who's tired, Hutch admitted. We've both been working our asses off; luckily neither of us got sick from being so run down._

            He remembered the visible mixture of excitement and fear on Starsky's part as he broke the news to him, how the plane tickets were already bought and the hotel reservations confirmed. Hutch had been angry--and still was-- he had to admit. But it had been Starsky's contagious enthusiasm that had spurred Hutch into running home, grabbing some clothes and packing as quickly as he could, while Starsky cashed their checks at The Pits. He had let loose a lot of his anger at home, throwing clothing into the bag while yelling at the partner who wasn't there to hear it. By the time he'd gotten to Starsky's apartment, where the cab to the airport was to pick them up, Hutch had gotten rid of a lot of his initial anger.

             _He certainly looked disappointed when we drove up, then again when he saw the room. He's acting like someone has just told him his next birthday has been canceled._

            It didn't take much to see that Starsky had had higher expectations. He didn't know what his partner and lover thought they would be getting from a budget-brochure, but this hadn't been it. Hutch's heart had softened further as he had watched that enthusiasm fade as the night progressed.

             _I'm here because he loves me,_ Hutch reminded himself, finding the anger of not being included in the planning fading away, the urge to hold Starsky washing over him. _He tries so hard to please me, to do what's best for both of us. How can I stay angry at that?_

            The bathroom door opened and Starsky walked into the room, damp and wrapped only in a towel. His smile was forced as he nodded toward the bathroom.

            "Bathroom's ready, such as it is. Don't expect much."

            Hutch walked to him slowly, wrapping both arms around him, burying his nose in the crook of his neck. He could feel Starsky relax into his embrace.

            "Smart move, hot shot." Hutch gave his lover's damp neck a kiss. "Saving all our vacation money for the fun stuff, instead of putting it out for a car and room we won't be spending much time in." He pulled away enough so that Starsky could see the teasing smile on his face.

            The smile that flowered on Starsky's face was real this time, and Hutch felt the arms around his waist squeeze him affectionately.

            "Can't take the credit, I have to admit. I really expected a lot better. They must have taken the brochure picture about twenty years ago."

            "Well, it's not too bad. As long as we can get a good night's sleep, then it'll do."

            Starsky winced. "But the car--"

            "I like the car."

            "Yeah, I know. I was afraid of that. Next time I'm going to spring for something other than their budget model."

            They both laughed, Hutch feeling glad that they were both in a better mood. It would have been a long, sleepless night if they'd both been out of sorts.

            "Tell you what," Hutch said. "I'll buy you a big breakfast tomorrow morning and we'll keep the car. No use trading it back in if it'll get us where we want to go."

            Starsky's smile grew even wider. "Tell you what, make it a late brunch, or even lunch, and I'll learn to live with it."

            "Deal." Hutch gave him a light kiss and pulled away to use the bathroom.

            He took a quick shower, promptly giving up on getting anything but tepid water. By the time he was done brushing his teeth, Starsky was under the covers of one of the beds, looking like he was almost asleep.

            Hutch was glad the sheets felt clean and crisp as he slid his naked body in with relief. Moving close to Starsky, who was on his back but with an arm up in invitation, Hutch curled himself up at his side. Carefully wrapping an arm over Starsky's chest, a thigh over his thigh, and his head in the crook of Starsky's neck, Hutch smiled to himself. Starsky's arm curled around him, leaving his fingers free to lightly trail up and down Hutch's back.

            It didn't take much to realize they were both too tired and travel weary to do anything but sleep. At times like these, Hutch found that snuggling was better for the body and soul than a ton of aspirin or finding yourself on the winning end of an argument. As his aching and tired muscles relaxed he could feel a similar response from the body in his arms. Hutch shifted only slightly, enjoying the soft, sensual feel of curly hairs against his skin, the firm but soft feel of Starsky's hip as Hutch pressed his torso and crotch against Starsky's side. He smiled as he felt Starsky's hand card through the hair at the back of his neck, glad that his lover found something physical about him to enjoy as they drifted off.

            It felt so good to have this kind of comfort--this kind of trust--that he wondered how he'd ever done without it.

             _I don't care where we are, or what it looks like, as long as we can be like this for the next three days._

            As sleep claimed him, his last thoughts were of the warm, soft fingers playing with his hair.

          

 

***

 

 

 

            Roger Martini stood at his hotel room window, watching the sparse traffic of the early morning hour through a small opening in the curtains. Never one to sleep for very long, his mind was happily busy with the new information he had gleaned upon his arrival.

            He smiled to himself as he took a puff of his cigar, enjoying the taste and flavor of the Superba Corona Superba, as well as the anticipated excitement of the next few days.

             _Detectives Starsky and Hutchinson, the only two men in law enforcement who had ever denied me my prize. What a pleasant surprise! Here on vacation, are you? How very interesting! Would this be a coincidence, or have the local authorities found themselves in such a tizzy that they've had to call in for help? This might be a bit more fun than I had originally anticipated. Life has been so boring of late._

            The thought of the two interceding in his planning was actually welcomed news. He had been afraid that this project, while important, would be a too easy success. He enjoyed a good game of cat-and-mouse. After all, where was the entertainment, the satisfaction, of a goal too easily won?

            "You may have cost me the Belvedere diamonds, gentlemen, but this time I shall not take you for granted. We shall see who will be the victor in this little game, and what a magnificent game it will be."

            The Baron took another puff of the cigar, mindful that he would have to ration his small supply for a few days. The box he had brought with him would now have to be spread around a bit further than his original plan called for. He let his mouth turn up in a slow smile as he blew a series of smoke rings into the air.

            But at the cost of a well-played game, the small sacrifice would be well worth it. He had always wanted to find a way to play another round with the two detectives, and with the thrill of making contact, and not being recognized, he was happy to chalk up the points of the first round to himself.

             _If this really is just a vacation you are on, then I shall have to make plans to have you included in the game. You two will make the competition much more interesting than I had dared hope!_

          

 

***

 

 

 

            Carefully opening one eye, mind still numb with sleep, Hutch discovered he was in a bed. His head was under some sort of coverlet, and the small bit of the world he could see was tinted a bright orange. He knew that he wasn't home--his or Starsky's. He knew he wasn't alone, since the large warm bulk next to him could only be his lover. All he could make out was a small triangle of chest hairs, tan skin and a hint of the well-formed muscle. The rest of Starsky was blocked by a sheet. Besides Starsky's deep, even breathing, he could hear car doors slamming and voices nearby.

             _Okay. Hotel room. Vacation. Late night flight. Crappy hotel room._

            Blinking his eyes, he ventured enough movement to find his face and rub at them. He still felt a little thick-headed and wondered if he'd over or under slept. The outside light that filtered through the coverlet could mean it was morning or afternoon, but the movement outside definitely sounded like morning.

             _It's a day off, Hutchinson. Relax. Who cares what time it is?_

            Yawning, he stretched slowly, enjoying the feeling. He was on his stomach, head facing the center of the bed. Starsky was lying on his left side. The wadded sheets between them showing that they both must have been a bit restless. Hutch lifted his hand to uncover his head, when he saw that the movement had revealed more of Starsky's torso.

            Considering the way Starsky was snoring, it was a sure bet he wasn't going to wake up because a few covers were being moved.

            Pulling the sheet slowly, Hutch found himself revealing more of the delightfully furred body in front of him. The bright orange light that filtered through the coverlet made Starsky's body hair glint red in places, blending the scars into the rest of his skin so they were almost invisible.

             _Well,_ Hutch thought evilly. _I'll bet there's one part of him that's wide awake and ready to go!_

            Since they had become lovers, Hutch could probably count on one hand the number of times he'd known Starsky to wake without an erection. Hutch himself was half-hard, and now the thought of a private strip tease under the covers was making his cock even harder and his body tingle with interest.

            Continuing to tug gently, Starsky's belly button was revealed. It was all Hutch could do to keep from moving forward those few inches to explore it with his tongue. It was only seconds later that Hutch found what he was looking for and could make out the outline of hard cock under the sheet. Carefully uncovering the organ, Hutch marveled at how the sight of it could make him feel so drawn to touch it.

            Thick and rose-colored when full, the strange lighting seemed to make it look almost angry and desperate.

            Hutch yearned to sooth and satisfy it.

            Shifting a bit so that his face was closer, he reached out to touch the velvet skin. Tracing a light line from scrotum to the delicate underside of the glans. Hutch watched as the sensitive organ pulsed in response, and he heard Starsky groan sleepily.

            Hutch's own cock throbbed at the sound.

            Feeling the flush of desire warm him, and wanting to see Starsky's face, Hutch carefully reached above his head to grab the top of the coverlet, pulling it down slowly. The cool air of the room hit him like a refreshing breeze, and he blinked in the stronger light that flooded through the worn, thin curtains. Starsky's skin was now its healthy, glowing olive color, his thick curls the normal dark chocolate.

            Looking up, Hutch could see Starsky's face. He had his right arm thrown over his eyes; his left arm was under the pillow, hugging it to his face. Only tousled curls, soft lips and stubbled chin were visible. Hutch had seen that posture before, on those mornings when Starsky had been awake enough at one point to try to hide himself from the light.

             _Like a kid hoping for a few more minutes before he has to get up for school. He looks so peaceful, like he's never had a care in the world._

            This morning, Hutch was going to see that Starsky awoke in one of his favorite ways.

            Carefully taking the hard cock around its base, Hutch gripped it carefully, pulling it gently from its firm position against Starsky's abdomen. Bringing it to his mouth he breathed across the glans, feeling the reaction in his hand as a throb. Sticking his tongue out, Hutch carefully touched the tip to the open slit, moving his tongue up and down gently.

            Starsky's breath caught and he moaned, sending shivers down Hutch's spine. Hutch paused and looked up, watched as Starsky moved his arm, peering blearily down at him. A crooked, wickedly happy smile took over Starsky's face as his right hand reached down to gently rest on Hutch's head.

            Knowing he must be smiling like the Devil himself, Hutch kept eye contact as he licked his lips and placed them on the head of Starsky's cock.

            Starsky groaned louder, the sound rumbling through Hutch like rolling thunder on a summer's night. Carefully covering his teeth, Hutch pursed his lips tightly, and pushed the glans past his tight lips and into his mouth, as if there were barely any room for him there.

            "Aaaaahhhhhh...." Starsky's fingers fumbled in Hutch's hair, grabbing at random strands as he clenched his fist.

            Hutch released the cock, sucking firmly on the head to keep it in his mouth. Moving his right hand to the curve of Starsky's hip, he used his other hand to first caress and then hold both testicles tightly. He could feel Starsky practically vibrating in his mouth, neither man moving.

            "Hmmmm...." Hutch hummed loudly after a long moment, moving his tongue on the sensitive spot.

            "Aaaahhhhh...mmmaaaannn...."

            Hutch loosened his hold on the soft, furry pouch but didn't let it go entirely.

            Starsky's hips moved, carefully pushing his cock farther into Hutch's mouth.

            Hutch kept his mouth as tight as he safely could, wanting his lover to feel the heat and pressure of penetration.

            "Huuutchhh... _sogoodsogoodsogood_ this way... _ugh_...uh...." Speech turned into grunts, breathing became panting. The grip on his hair tightened, the thrusting increased in speed if not in depth. Minutes passed as Hutch gave Starsky's cock his full attention.

            Angling a bit so he could glance up, Hutch could see burning, hooded dark eyes staring at him, as if they were never going to let him go. Starsky moaned, watching Hutch watch him.

            The wanton look in those eyes made Hutch's cock ache in earnest need, but he kept the pressure hard and tight, trying to concentrate on doing this for Starsky rather than think about his own desires.

            The thrusts became faster, the control waned a bit as Starsky pressed farther than he had before, but still less than halfway. Hutch could tell he was close.

            Moving his hand from the testicles, Hutch once again gripped the base of Starsky's cock, feeling the pulse of his racing heart, feeling the strain as the cock filled a bit more.

            He sucked harder and rubbed his tongue against the sensitive spot a bit faster, feeling the bits and pieces of Starsky's orgasm as they fell into place inside the taut, straining body.

            "Oh...yesyesyes...closecloseclose...ah.... Ahh...." Starsky was out of control now, teetering on the edge of completion and thrusting for home.

            "Ahh...ahhh! HmmmMMMM...UH!"

            Hutch stilled all movement, feeling the hot spurt of cum at the back of his throat, coating the back of his tongue. More spurts threatened to fill his mouth to overflowing, but he refused to swallow. Hutch's tongue had found the pulse of Starsky's heart and orgasm, and he didn't want to interrupt his pleasure. Not when he was most sensitive.

            "Hutch...Hutch...that was so good...Iloveitwhenyouwakemeuplikethat...."

            As the pulse of his cock started to calm, Starsky pulled gently back, letting Hutch know he wanted to be released.

            Hutch did so, surprised to feel himself gulp hastily and gasp for air. He hadn't realized he had been holding his breath.        

            "Your turn." Starsky's voice was raspy and soft as he rolled to his back and stretched, looking like a panther lolling in the sun. Hutch looked up at him and saw completion and love in the deep blue eyes. The hand in his hair tugged gently, the smile turned wicked. "C'mon. Your turn to yell. Just remember we're in a thin-walled hotel room, lover boy."

            Hutch's heart leaped at the wicked smile, his own cock practically yelling at him for attention. The wanton, sultry look that radiated through Starsky's whole body was too powerful to ignore. He knew he could have anything he asked for, and right now what he wanted was that hot body under him.

            Launching himself at Starsky, he heard a yelp of laughter as Starsky's hands flew up to keep himself from being squashed. Hutch buried his face in the crook of Starsky's neck even as he laid his full weight on top of him, nipping at skin as he straddled Starsky's thighs. Starsky laughed, wiggling under the onslaught.

            Pulling back a bit, Hutch licked his palm and grabbed his leaking cock, holding some of his weight off Starsky with his other hand. Spreading the moisture quickly, he scooted down enough to adjust his erection so that it slipped between Starsky's hairy, muscular thighs.

            Bracing himself with a hand on either side of him, Hutch lay back down on the firm, hot body and thrust as deeply into that enclosed space as he could. Adjusting his angle a bit more, he began to thrust quickly, feeling the wet, slick hairs on Starsky's firmly closed thighs like thousands of tiny caresses on his heated and hungry flesh.

            Ear to Starsky's chest, Hutch pulled the man to him, wrapping his arms tightly around his lover.

            He knew he was making sounds with each thrust, saying things he wasn't paying any attention to. All he could keep track of were the arms that held him and the sweet thunder of his nerves as he humped, thrust and rubbed himself against that electric skin.

            Completion called him, daring him to catch and hold it captive. Moving frantically, the sound of his own panting and the erotic slap of his balls against Starsky's thighs filled his ears, mixing with the sound of the heart under him.

            He was desperate now, his whole body trembling, ass clenching with the tension of coming. Close to the edge, but not quite reaching it. He was losing his rhythm, losing the pace he had set, and he moaned as the edge of the cliff came within reach.

            He fought to throw himself off.

            As orgasm hit him, he froze, internal muscles spasmed as that warm, glorious pulsing sensation in his gut spread along tingling nerves to hit his brain with a buzz of sparks. The knot of need behind his balls unraveled as he ejaculated, emptying his body of semen in powerful spurts.

            It seemed to go on forever, and he rode with the sensations as they eased, then finally stopped, leaving him feeling hot, sweaty, incredibly relaxed and weak.

            It wasn't until Starsky removed a hand from his mouth that he realized it had been there at all.

            Fighting the urge to sleep, he began to roll over, knowing he was too heavy for Starsky to support for very long.

            Hutch looked into Starsky's eyes as they settled comfortably together. All he had the strength to do was raise a questioning eyebrow at the amused look in Starsky's eyes.

            "And I thought _I_ was dangerously loud," Starsky replied to the silent question, a grin growing on his face. "Babe, we're going to have to remember we've got close neighbors around here. I was afraid that if you got much louder we'd have the local cops at the door, thinking there was a murder going on!"

            Hutch laughed, a bit embarrassed. "It's your fault, you know. I can't help what you do to me."

            They both chuckled softly, pulling each other close. Hutch felt as if he could sleep for a whole day and was glad to see Starsky had the same idea.

            With the luxury of satisfaction, free time and no further need for words, Hutch let himself fall into a doze as they held each other gently.

          

 

***

 

 

 

            He was hungry. His stomach was almost to the growling point. His throat was dry, and he was sticky in places that weren't going to be pleasant to "un-stick" if he left them much longer. Yet Starsky really didn't want to untangle himself from Hutch. The morning wake-up had been wonderful and being able to doze back off, touching Hutch as much as he could as he drifted, had been heaven. Not having to be anywhere or have anything pressing to do for the next few days, was both exciting and relaxing. They were free to follow their noses, and Starsky looked forward to discovering how the day would unfold. But to experience the day he was going to have to get up.

             _Everything has its trade-off._ He moved experimentally, stretching a bit to see if Hutch was awake. _Can't start the day if we don't ever get out of bed. Of course, we have spent a few days in bed._

            Smiling, he leaned down to give Hutch's forehead a quick kiss, then moved to disengage and make his way to the bathroom. Hutch was humming sleepily, spreading out over the rest of the bed as soon as Starsky left it. Glancing at the clock he saw that it was getting close to noon.

            "You just keep simmerin' there, Hutch, while I take a shower. Why don't you think about what you want to do today? Gotta be some way we can find to get into trouble."

            Hutch only grunted, not moving from his face down, spread-eagle position on the bed.

             _Better be a cold shower! Starsky thought as he headed for the bathroom. I stay in this room too long with Hutch lookin' all golden and satisfied like that, and I'm going to end up back in bed again!_

 

          ***

 

            Starsky's shower went quickly, the almost non-existent water pressure not encouraging any lingering under the tepid spray. When he was done, Hutch was already at the sink brushing his teeth. They traded places, and by the time Hutch left the bathroom, Starsky was dressed in a blue t-shirt and tan shorts. He was looking through his bag for his second sandal when Hutch passed, and Starsky leaned over to swat at the tempting ass under the towel.

            "So, what's it gonna be?" he asked, hoping Hutch would have something fun in mind.

            "Well, I was thinking." Hutch opened his own bag and started pulling out clothing, glancing up to give Starsky a grin. "How about we get a glimpse of the history around here? Get in the car and do a little sightseeing?"

            "Uh...." Starsky tried to find the right words, not wanting to put an early damper on things. He didn't want to appear too negative, but they were on vacation. And there were all those casinos close by. "You mean, like a museum, art gallery or...something?"

            "Sort of. Consider it a life-sized museum where we could get a bit of a feel for the old west, and have some fun at the same time. How about going to Virginia City?"

            "Yeah? Like on 'Bonanza?' That place?"

            Hutch sat on the bed as he pulled on underwear, having laid out a white pull-over shirt and matching shorts. "I saw a brochure in the front office about it and looked through it while you were getting the keys. Looked like it's maybe an hour's drive away, up in the mountains. It's really a famous tourist attraction now. They have some of the older casinos open and a real, live Boot Hill. We've got all evening to hit the strip and see some shows."

            "That's a terrific idea!" Starsky threw his bag on the floor and began pulling the second bed apart. Two guys had the room, so two beds should look slept in. "I've always wondered if that place looks like it does on TV. Betcha I can get some great pictures!"

            "Great! We'll stop back by the office; pick up a brochure and a map. We can ask about a good place to eat so we don't have to spend time looking for one."

            They packed up their extra items neatly and debated on what to do with their guns. They had their regular holsters, but it was too hot to wear them under another shirt. They had also brought ankle holsters, which is why Hutch had left his Magnum at home, since it wouldn't have fit. Eventually, they decided to bring the guns, but would lock them in the trunk of the car during the day rather than leave them in the hotel safe--if the hotel even had one. The car was old and dented enough not to have to worry about someone breaking into the trunk for anything valuable.

            Starsky had his camera ready to go. They could stop and pick up drinks and snacks for the trip when they stopped for lunch. Starsky had paid for the room in advance, so they didn't need to worry about getting back for any sort of check-in.

            It only took them a few minutes to get their things together. Starsky opened the door and stood for a moment, feeling the hot, dry air flow over him like a blanket still warm from the dryer. He had heard the air-conditioner running, but hadn't realized what a difference it would make. The sky was a bright blue, with a few clouds hanging behind the bare looking mountains in the distance. Surprisingly, the heat was almost nice--making him anxious to get breakfast, or rather lunch, so they could start their adventure. He knew that later it would probably build up to be uncomfortable. If they were lucky they could find places during the day to cool off.

            While Hutch headed for the car to get their guns locked away, Starsky went to the office to browse through the brochures, feeling happy and excited at the prospect of free time on a clear, sunny day.

             _So far so good! I'm going to keep my fingers crossed that things don't end up too exciting. I'd like us both to go home in one piece for a change_.

          

 

***

 

 

 

            With the warmth of the car, the lull of quiet desert driving and the tiredness of a day well spent, Hutch was dozing in the passenger seat of the rental car. They were close to the hotel, and knowing Starsky wanted to hit the gambling strip as soon as it was dark, Hutch had decided to get a nap in while he could. Starsky didn't seem to mind the shared silence any more than he did.

            For getting a late start on the day, it had already been a good one. They had grabbed lunch in town, gotten some drinks and snacks along with a cooler for the car. The highway from Reno was easy to find, and the view from the mountains was one of interesting contrasts. One side of the valley in which Reno was located was walled by beautiful, wooded mountains; the other by desert mountains, covered in sagebrush and other desert fauna. When it came time to make a choice of directions, Hutch was struck by the fact that if they turned right they could end up in a forest on their way to Tahoe and all the modern conveniences, or turn left and find themselves in an old frontier town, out in the desert mountains. Reno really felt as if it existed on the edge of two worlds.

            The ride to Virginia City had been interesting. The view from the highway, which switched and twisted up the side of the steep mountain range, was fantastic. They had stopped at several sightseeing points on the way up to admire the view. Several times they found themselves with a respectable drop on one side and a rock wall that hosted a myriad of colorful layers of stone and earth on the other, which kept them on their toes during the drive up the narrow road.

            Virginia City itself had been a surprise. Starsky had delighted in the fact that it really was nothing like it was depicted on television. On the side of a mountain range away from Reno, Virginia City was not in a valley, but on the side of a hill. A rather steep hill in areas. There were streets that made both cops wonder how a team of horses had been able to navigate the heavy, ore-filled wagons of the past. The buildings in town had aged in the hot sun for decades, giving them a character that couldn't be faked. Some were still occupied, and others looked to be empty but in the process of restoration. The main street had casinos, small restaurants and shops on both sides. Both men had been glad they were middle-of-the-week tourists, since parking was hard to find and must be almost impossible to come by on weekends.

            After parking, they had walked both sides of the main street. Hutch was impressed with how the original buildings had been restored with an eye to keeping more than they replaced. Starsky had taken roll after roll of film--many of the pictures with Hutch in them, some he let Hutch take of him, and a few that other accommodating tourists had taken of them both.

            They had visited the museum, both of them sobering as they came face-to-face with the everyday items the pioneers to the area had used in their day-to-day lives. The display of an old country doctor's medical paraphernalia was fascinating and chilling at the same time. Starsky shied away from the dental display, which gave Hutch a chance to tease him a bit.

            Both had been silent and subdued at the display of old coffins and horse-drawn hearses. The children's coffins, with windows in the lids so that the children's faces could be displayed at their burial, were the saddest. Hutch had even been surprised to find a whole museum devoted to Samuel Clemens, who had written for the local paper while writing some of his stories, signing those works as "Mark Twain" for the first time.

            Both men had come away with a new appreciation for the pioneers of the past and had wondered out loud if they would have had the right stuff to carve out a new life in the Old West.

            They each ate a snack in a small family restaurant, where they sat and read through the various brochures they had picked up. They drove away their thirst in an authentic, old style saloon, which sported its original, huge, hand-carved wooden bar and lack of air conditioning. But the room itself was so narrow and so deep, they were able to relax in the natural coolness the building provided.

            All in all, it had been a day well spent. Hutch had enjoyed learning more about the city and the people who had carved their fortunes, or lack thereof, out of what had been a dry and dangerous wilderness.

            Now the sun was starting to set, and they had decided on a change of clothing for the evening and to get a nice dinner on the main gambling strip. Hutch knew Starsky had his hopes set on finding a large buffet somewhere. The rest of the night could unfold as it would.

            Hutch jerked awake as the car came to a stop and Starsky turned off the engine. He hadn't realized they were that close to the hotel, nor that it was almost sunset.

            "Time to get cleaned up for dinner!" Starsky announced happily, reaching into the back seat for his camera bag. "After we get changed and our stuff is stowed away, we'll ask the hotel manager where the best buffet is. I bet he knows where the best slots are, too."

            "Sounds good. We can--" Hutch broke off, as he saw movement from a car several spaces down to their right. Something made his hair stand on end. "Starsk...."

            Keeping his eyes on the occupants in the car, Hutch could feel that he had Starsky's attention.

            "I see 'em, Hutch. Looks like they're interested in us as well."

            There were three men who were getting out of a car and were heading their way. The men were too well dressed to be travelers or at the hotel on vacation, and they had been watching him and Starsky as they drove in. The men didn't look concerned that he and Starsky obviously knew they were on their way over.

            "They're packing." Hutch sighed to himself as he moved to get out of the car. Their own guns _would_ have to be in the trunk.

            Getting out, Hutch shut his door and leaned back against the car, waiting for Starsky who was walking around the car. As they came within speaking distance, the man in the lead nodded politely at him. Hutch nodded back just as Starsky settled next to him against the car.

            "Gentlemen, I'm looking for Detectives Hutchinson and Starsky, from the Bay City PD." The tall, gray-haired man reached into his jacket pocket and revealed a detective's badge. "I assume you two are the ones I'm looking for?"

            Hutch gave Starsky a guarded look, which was returned.

             _Why do I feel that the smart answer would be no?_

            "That's us." Starsky answered without emotion, holding out a hand to receive the badge that the other detective surrendered reluctantly. After glancing at it, he handed it to Hutch. "What can we do for you, gentlemen?"

            Hutch glanced at the badge and the ID card that accompanied it. It was authentic.

            "I'm Detective First Class Abner Reighter. These are Detectives Frost and Williamson. If you don't mind, we'd like to have a word with you two."

            "Voluntarily or involuntarily?" Hutch asked, wondering how important this was and how pushy the detectives would be.

            Reighter raised his hands, palms up. "Really, it could go either way. We can discuss it here, or downtown. You gentlemen know the drill."

            "Great," Starsky murmured unhappily. "There goes one nice day down the toilet. You might as well come in."

            Hutch unlocked the trunk and retrieved their guns. Starsky pulled the empty cooler and camera case from the back seat.

            Once inside, Hutch was glad to feel the room was still cool. He hadn't realized how used to the heat he had gotten and the difference felt refreshing. He also noticed that both beds had been made and none of their bags seemed to have been touched.

            They all filtered in, and no one said anything until the door was closed.

            "Okay," Starsky said impatiently. "Let's get this over with. Why are you here?"

            The three men exchanged glances.

            "Look, gentlemen," Reighter began, sounding as if he were trying to control his anger. "We _know_ that you're cops, but you're poaching on _our_ territory. And, frankly, we don't need any help, haven't asked for any, and resent the fact that you feel you can just walk in and do whatever you want."

            "Wait, wait!" Hutch snapped, glancing at Starsky to see that he was just as confused. "I don't know what the hell you're talking about! My partner and I have a few days off and are on vacation. A spur-of-the-moment vacation that we didn't even know we were taking until late yesterday afternoon."

            "So if you want to start making some sense," Starsky continued, irritation radiating from him, "then you'd better start at the beginning of this fantasy of yours."

            "You want us to believe that you're not here on a case? Or here for a personal vendetta?" Frost asked.

            Hutch shrugged helplessly at Starsky before replying. "What do you want? A lie detector test? We told you why we're here. How about telling us why _you're_ here?"

            Reighter signaled for the other two to follow him into the corner for a quiet conference. Hutch joined Starsky at the other side of the room to follow suit.

            "Who knows we're here?" Hutch whispered, eyes on the other three across the room.

            "Just Dobey. I had to let him know where we were going. And I mentioned it to Huggy when he cashed our checks."

            "You tell Dobey we were coming to this hotel?"

            "Yeah, in case of an emergency. How much do you want to bet we've got a note at the office to call him back?"

            "No bets," Hutch replied grumpily. "What _could_ they think we're here for?"

            Starsky gave him an unhappy glance. "Since when did _I_ start to read minds?"

            This wasn't looking good, but it could be worse. At least they hadn't been arrested or anything.

            The party at the other end of the room broke up. Reighter was apparently going to be the spokesman once again.

            "Seems we may have a misunderstanding, Detectives. Why don't we sit down and I can fill you in?"

            Reighter sat on one bed, but the other two men didn't. Deciding to get the ball rolling, Hutch sat on the other and Starsky joined him.

            "As you can guess," Reighter began, "there is a lot of money that changes hands in Nevada. Cities like Vegas and Reno rake in their share of physical currency from all over. After a while, all that paper money and the coins need to be returned to the Federal Reserve for redistribution."

            "And what does this have to do with us?" Starsky asked, impatience in his voice.

            Reighter looked at the two men with him, and Hutch noticed that Frost gave Reighter a slight nod.

             _Reighter may be the spokesman, but he's not in charge_ , Hutch decided.

            "There's a big armored car shipment due to make the San Francisco Federal Reserve run on Friday. It's an unofficial convoy of sorts, where more than one car makes the trip loaded with coins and bills of all denominations. Last month there were several large tradeshow conventions; every hotel in the area was booked and people from all over came in loaded to the gills to gamble. The banks need to empty their vaults of the excess cash."

            "And you think we're here because of all this?" Hutch knew he sounded angry, but he wasn't seeing any connection. "Why would you tie us in with this?"

            Reighter reached into his jacket pocket, pulled out an envelope and handed it to Starsky.

            "We've already dusted it for prints," Reighter assured them as Starsky opened it.

            Starsky unfolded a sheet of typed paper, and Hutch moved close to read it over his shoulder. It read:

            Plans will change. Stand by for adjustments.  
 Detectives Starsky and Hutchinson on the case.  
 Be on the look out for them.  
 They already know too much.

 

            Hutch felt his eyebrows run to his hairline, wondering what in the world the note was about. He certainly couldn't deny they were mentioned by name.

            "What is this? Who got this note and why do you have it?" Starsky handed it back, looking disturbed.

            "We are aware of a plan to rob the armored cars before they can get to San Francisco. One of our informants--a local thief--was contacted by someone to make certain preparations for the heist. There are other local criminals in on this project, and we've been keeping an eye on them all while they make their preparations. So far they've been well paid, but it's clear that they're only being paid to set up this end of the deal. They've not been promised a split of the proceeds, or given any instructions beyond what they're to do in Reno itself."

            "So you think they're the small fry, and that bigger guns will handle the actual robbery?" Hutch asked. "And I'm assuming that you don't have any idea who the big league guys are, or what they're planning."

            "That's right," Reighter admitted, looking uncomfortable.

            "So where did this paper with our names come from?" Starsky asked again. "And who is funding all this? You got a name?"

            "This paper was smuggled to us from our informant in the group. It arrived early this morning and the information was passed around. Our informant didn't recognize your names, but couldn't tell if the others in the group did or not. Apparently they're all sitting on their hands now, waiting for further instructions."

            "Any ideas on who's running this thing?" Hutch asked, noticing that Reighter hadn't gotten around to answering that question.

            All three men seemed to focus in on him and Starsky, as if looking for a reaction.

            "The man who is funding the heist is only known as 'The Baron'."

            "The Baron!" Starsky sounded as surprised as Hutch felt.

            Their past gift of Superba Corona Superbas from the thief immediately came to mind. He and Starsky had been charged with keeping a priceless collection of diamonds safe from the man until they could be auctioned off. With Huggy's help they had been able to trick The Baron, who made away with cut glass duplicates. No one had ever been able to identify The Baron, nor get a confirmed set of prints. As far as they knew, the famous thief had gotten away scot-free, only to send each of them one of his trademark cigars and a nice note.

            "Why would The Baron think we know anything about this?" Hutch asked Starsky, feeling confused. "We didn't even know we were coming ourselves until the last minute."

            "That's an awfully strange coincidence, wouldn't you say?" Frost asked, the look on his face saying plainly that he didn't believe either of them. "The Baron plans a large heist and you two show up a few days in advance? And, according to Captain Dobey, you are on vacation. He certainly didn't know anything about you being on a case. So I wonder why it feels as if you two have been digging around into The Baron's activities and are here to succeed where you failed in Bay City?"

            Before Hutch could react, Starsky was already on his feet.

            "Failed?! I'll have you know that my partner and I _beat_ The Baron and completed our assignment in a _satisfactory_ manner!"

            "He got away, didn't he?" Frost sneered.

            "Our assignment wasn't to _catch_ The Baron," Hutch replied angrily, joining Starsky who was standing with hands on hips. "We were to protect the _diamonds_ and we _did_ that. And with no one getting hurt, by the way!"

            "If you had been doing your _job_ , you could have done both," Frost said icily.

            "Okay, that's enough!" Reighter was now on his feet, standing between the partners and Frost. His eyes were on Starsky and Hutch. "We'll leave it at this, but I'm warning you two. You try to get in our way, and we'll take you downtown to holding until we can get your butts back on a plane to Bay City. We can't prove that you're keeping anything from us, but any interference and you're out of here. Understood?"

            "If we 'interfere' it'll be in our capacity as cops," Starsky snapped back. Hutch didn't have to look at him to know how threatening Starsky looked about now.

            "If someone thinks we know something, then they'll be the ones making the first move, not us," Hutch added. "We don't have any contacts here and wouldn't know where to start! All we plan to do is enjoy our vacation."

            "And if something happens, we'll act appropriately, _even_ if that means calling you guys," Starsky said, moving slightly closer to invade Frost's personal space. "But don't go around threatening us, Detectives, 'cause we haven't broken any laws and don't plan on doing so."

            "I'd say this meeting is over," Reighter said, his own anger clearly in better control than Frost's, who was looking as if he'd love to go a round or two with Starsky any minute now. Digging in his wallet, Reighter handed Hutch a card. "You'd better reach us if you hear _anything_ that could help us on this case. If we find out you had info you didn't share, we'll not only make your careers a thing of the past, but we'll make sure Dobey regrets letting you two loose as well."

            Hutch grabbed Starsky's arm before either he or Starsky could say anything that would make things worse. Starsky didn't move, and the two of them stood and watched as the three men stormed out of the room, Frost slamming the door behind them.

            "They'd play a better game of 'good cop, bad cop' if they had any good cops with 'em," Starsky muttered.

            "It just doesn't make any sense." Hutch sat down on the edge of the bed, feeling tired all of a sudden. "We don't know anything. We didn't even know we were going to be here until yesterday. Why in the world would The Baron send that message to his men?"

            Starsky, arms crossed, started pacing back and forth. "Well, you gotta know they're taking this seriously if they've called Dobey already. He's probably just as upset with us as they are."

            Hutch sighed, falling backward on the bed. "Why do I get the feeling that we're going to have another interrupted vacation?"

            Starsky stopped his pacing and looked over at him for a moment. Hutch watched as his partner checked the door, making sure it was locked. He then moved the curtain aside, watching something outside. Hutch heard a motor start and a car pull away. After a moment Starsky closed the curtain, then slowly sauntered over. Hutch knew that smoky look, that sensuous walk.

            Smiling, Hutch put his hands behind his head, lacing his fingers. Whatever was on Starsky's mind was going to be more than okay with him.

           _Time to get this vacation back under way._

          

 

***

 

 

 

            The sight of Hutch stretched out on the bed was enough to drain the anger out of Starsky in a second. Determined that these few precious days would be the healing Starsky felt his lover needed, he advanced toward the bed.

            Blond hair almost white from the sun was spread out like silk tendrils on the bedspread. Where it stuck to Hutch's face and neck it curled, looking like gold against the tan, heat-flushed skin.

            Eyes followed the warm skin down to the neck and strong shoulders, then down the muscled torso that was clearly outlined by the white shirt. Starsky could feel his own desire building up as his eyes traveled down the long form, taking in the slim hips and heavy bulge of crotch. The white shorts were tight and cut high, ending just where thick, tan thighs began. Hutch had the longest legs Starsky had ever seen. A runner's legs, they matched Hutch well.

            When Starsky had first laid eyes on Hutch, he had seen a man made for movement, quickness and grace. One of the first things that had drawn him to Hutch, as an individual, was the strange mixture of strength, power, and those klutzy moments that many a time had Starsky hiding a smile of amusement. Hutch was beautiful, but not perfect. When Starsky had first realized that Hutch himself had never claimed, nor believed in "perfection," it had allowed him to see beyond the cool, pretty-boy exterior.

            Hutch was beautiful inside, open in ways that weren't healthy for their kind of work, yet hard in the places that kept him going. It was those places that had taken a beating of late, crumbling around the edges, letting the painful ugliness too close to a tender heart.

            Starsky moved toward Hutch slowly, not hiding the fact that he was looking his fill and liking it. Hutch looked back at him the same way, eyes drinking him in from top to bottom. Starsky's eyes found the mound of Hutch's crotch again, and he could tell that Hutch's large cock was filling and hardening, even as his own was. As their eyes met Starsky felt almost faint from the look behind the growing lust in Hutch's eyes.

             _Love. He loves me. Trusts me. Needs me._

            Coming closer, Starsky resisted the urge to pounce on Hutch. He didn't want to rush the moment. Kneeling on the bed, he reached his left hand out to hover over Hutch's crotch, watching with growing heat as Hutch spread his legs farther apart. Starsky placed his hand on the mound gently, squeezed it softly at first, then a bit harder, feeling the excitement of such an intimate touch start his own nerves humming.

            Then Hutch moved, reaching out to cover Starsky's crotch with one large palm. Starsky pushed into the touch, bracing himself with his other hand as he leaned down toward him. Their eyes met again, and Starsky could see the ocean blue eyes turn dark as irises dilated. Hutch's face was flushed now, lips curled in a smile that called Starsky's to them.

            Leaning down, Starsky's lips met Hutch's, and both of them softly rubbed and caressed each other as their hands started to mimic the motions on their covered cocks.

            It was Hutch who opened first, giving Starsky access to his mouth. Groaning at the taste, Starsky sent his tongue deep, searching out every flavor he could find of their shared day.

            He lost track of time, lost in the taste and feel of Hutch under his hands and in his mouth. They parted to breathe and as they did so, Starsky realized his erection was almost painful in the tight shorts, and Hutch's own mound was tight and hard under the stretched cloth.

            Giving the swollen mouth one more kiss, Starsky moved toward Hutch's crotch, angling his own toward Hutch's head. They both shifted on the bed until they were in a sixty-nine position. As soon as he was on his side, Starsky's hands were at Hutch's shorts, undoing the snap and pulling down the zipper. Hutch's hands were at his own zipper, and Starsky moaned as his cock was set free.

            Pulling Hutch's shorts down a fraction, Starsky first saw the ashen curls that framed his lover's cock. Not quite as blond as the hair on Hutch's head, it was fine and faintly curly, but not very abundant. Starsky reached into the layers of shorts and underwear to grab at the thick base of Hutch's cock, pulling the large organ from where it was swollen down the inside of his shorts. If there had been more room in the shorts, Starsky wouldn't have been surprised to find Hutch's cock head poking out of the bottom of them. As it was, Starsky had to carefully pull and angle the long cock until it was free. He could see it filling, the head flaring and needy.

            He could feel Hutch's hands on him and he spread his legs farther apart, wanting him anywhere Hutch wanted to be. He mirrored the movements but also found himself scratching _here_ and pinching gently _there_ in addition, knowing that those spots drove Hutch crazy. He could hear Hutch humming, the sound coming through his body and making it feel as if the large man was purring.

            Starsky knew he was making his own noises, and whatever sounds he made seemed to signal Hutch to do the exact right thing. His own nerves hummed and thrummed as if Hutch was speaking for them both.

            They played with each other for long minutes, Starsky growing harder and harder just as Hutch was. Starsky could feel himself leaking pre-cum and felt Hutch spread the liquid around his glans and shaft.

            He gripped Hutch's cock tightly around the base and pulled it closer toward him, his other hand still kneading Hutch's balls in a rhythm that always seemed to elicit a powerful response. He could see it then, a droplet of pre-cum at the slit. Sliding his hand up Hutch's cock, Starsky milked that drop out of him, rubbing it around the glans with his thumb. More and more leaked out, and Starsky could feel Hutch doing the same to him.

            A few seconds more, and Starsky knew they would be sucking each other to completion, but this time he wanted more than that.

            Letting go of Hutch's cock, he pushed away, pulling his cock back from Hutch as well.

            "What?" Hutch's voice sounded thick and breathless.

            Glancing at Hutch, seeing the hot, hooded eyes and flushed face framed by the golden-white hair, Starsky knew what he wanted.

            "Wanna _screw_ you," Starsky admitted in a heavy whisper. "Wanna pound you into this bed, lover, and never let you up."

            "Return the favor?" Hutch asked with an evil grin.

            "Get rid of the clothes. I'll get the stuff."

            Starsky pulled away, his heart beating a hundred miles an hour as he gave Hutch an evil grin. Throwing his clothes into the room, not caring how they landed, Starsky hurried to the bathroom to retrieve the lube he had in his shaving kit. He felt deliciously evil and lewd, his heavy cock bobbing in the open as he hurried on his mission.

            They usually tried to come together when they made love, to share climaxes, but there were times when they'd take turns fucking each other, letting the other indulge himself selfishly. It was a great freedom--to let yourself go while trusting that the other one would find his own pleasure the same way, in his own turn.

            Starsky was in too much of a hurry to be neat, so dumped the contents of the small bag into the sink, grabbing at the tube as soon as he saw it. Returning to the bed, Starsky stood at the end, his whole body throbbing as he looked at his partner.

            Hutch was now nude, on his back and looking impossibly sexy with his disheveled hair and long limbs wantonly relaxed. Hutch watched Starsky open the lube and apply a liberal coating to himself but didn't say anything. Starsky knew Hutch was waiting for him to call the shots.

            He also knew he'd be free to set whatever pace he wanted--fast or slow--knowing Hutch would enjoy it in his own way. Starsky would have to be careful not to touch him, or fuck him, in ways to bring him off, because he wanted Hutch hard and ready when his turn came. Hutch would be like a tiger pouncing on his kill and Starsky would be relaxed and open to whatever rhythm Hutch wanted to set.

            "How do you want me?" Hutch whispered excitedly, a smile on his face.

            Starsky tossed the lube to the side of the bed. "On your stomach."

            Starsky grabbed the two extra pillows from the other bed as Hutch complied. Coming up on the bed behind him, Starsky helped Hutch position the pillows under his hips. Feeling as if he must be shaking with excitement, Starsky reached under and pulled Hutch's genitals down so that balls and cock could be seen against the pillows. He knew that once he started, Hutch would be tempted to rub himself against the pillows. Starsky didn't want him that close to going off.

            Lust threatened to take over, filling Starsky's head with the sound of his own heart and making his cock bob with each heartbeat. He took a deep breath and held it, as he took in the sight of his lover's gorgeous ass. Hutch's butt was lighter than the rest of his skin, smooth and almost hairless. His ass cheeks were nicely rounded, and in between was his secret center--the place that only Starsky had access to. Hutch moaned his anticipation and Starsky was sorely tempted to stroke the thick, long cock that was hardening against the pillows.

            Getting more lube, he carefully applied it to Hutch's opening, making sure that he was relaxed enough to accept him. After a few moments, Starsky was sure Hutch was open enough, so took the base of his own cock in hand and moved closer, the other hand on Hutch's hip.

            Pressing his cock head to Hutch's center, Starsky waited a fraction of a second to give Hutch time to protest. Hearing none, Starsky pressed forward, his cock feeling electrified by the pressure and heat as he passed the tight muscle ring. It was all he could do to hold still to give Hutch time to relax with the pressure.

            "More," Hutch whispered thickly. "Do it the way you want it. Make me _feel_ it!"

            Starsky could feel Hutch's muscles relax and pushed farther in, relishing every fraction of an inch that he penetrated into the tight, slick heat. The tight fit squeezed him, making every nerve on the skin of Starsky's cock sing with excitement.

            In a moment, he was completely sheathed inside his lover, his cock jumping with his heartbeat. He paused, hands gripping Hutch's hips as he closed his eyes and enjoyed that first sense of completion, his cock buried up to the hilt in the soft flesh of the man he loved more than life itself.

            But his control never lasted, and this moment was no exception. He had to move, so pulled back carefully. Then he pushed back in.

            The heat and pressure pulled at him, milking his cock. Starsky took a firm grip of Hutch's ass. He could feel Hutch try to move with him, as little as he could, and found that he was thrusting faster and deeper with each passing minute.

            Eyes closed, head back and muscles tense Starsky let himself go, humping and thrusting as if he would never do so again. His ears were filled with the beating of his heart and the distant slap of his balls against Hutch's ass. Hutch was talking to him, saying sweet things that he couldn't fully concentrate on, urging him to go faster, harder and deeper.

            It was heaven, his body burning and hungry, racing to a climax that he needed more than anything. He quickened his pace, thrilling in the freedom to hump, push and rub in selfish indulgence. He turned his attention inward and was encouraged to take what he wanted with no guilt attached.

            His heart hammering, his hips bucking in frantic search of his goal, Starsky could feel it coming like a storm on the move. Nerves thrummed and beat, his insides filled to bursting as it came upon him.

            It was like getting hit by lightening, the shock to the nerves and the strained reaction of muscles and flesh stilling him as he hit climax. He fell against Hutch's back, feeling himself slick from his own sweat on the much cooler skin. His body pulsed hard, forcing his semen out in wave after wave of pleasure. He was filling Hutch up with himself, marking Hutch in places no one else ever would.

            If he had had his wish, they would have been glued together like that forever. But as soon as the pulses started to die, he pulled out carefully. All he had the strength to do was fall to the side to let his golden lion claim his own pleasure.

            When Hutch moved, it was with such strength and purpose that any other person might be frightened of him. Not many knew, as Starsky did, how strong he was. Starsky stayed relaxed as Hutch moved him to his back and placed a couple of pillows under each knee, opening him to Hutch's will.

            All Starsky could see in his post-orgasmic state was how golden Hutch was. How big and powerful and how much he lusted for Starsky. The golden tan was splotched with red patches of his sexual flush; his eyes were almost black in their desire, and Hutch's face....

            Hutch's features screamed of power, soul deep hunger and the need to claim his prize. Starsky felt his center coated with lube; fingers found their way inside and prepared him. And not one muscle in his body could find any reason to complain. It was nice, even inspiring, to be the subject of such need.

            Hutch pushed in carefully, waiting until Starsky gave him a slight nod.

            Starsky watched as Hutch's head fell back, his eyes closed and his plush mouth fell open in ecstasy as he sank all the way into Starsky.

            Hutch was large, and Starsky was still amazed he had come to accommodate the man. But what had been work at first to accept was now pleasurable. He had gotten used to the feeling of stretching and filling, and while they still had to be careful to prepare each other, his body had learned to desire the feeling of being filled and to look forward to it.

            Hutch sighed as he held them together, eyes still closed but bliss written on his face and body. Starsky relaxed even more, knowing the hands grasping his hips like a vice would keep them together.

            Hutch followed a pattern that Starsky was coming to recognize as something uniquely his own. Starsky knew he himself tended to fuck frantically when at his highest point, while Hutch tended to slow down, as if he were suddenly hypersensitive. Starsky liked to pull back until he could feel the muscle ring at the sensitive spot under the head of his cock, then push back in, never coming all the way out. Hutch liked to pull out and re-enter, filling Starsky slowly over and over in a maddeningly slow motion.

            And he loved it. Starsky loved to see Hutch indulging himself this way. He knew that anytime he felt uncomfortable Hutch would stop, or speed up, whichever Starsky asked for, but he felt far from used or uncomfortable. And little by little, thrust by thrust, Starsky could feel the increase in rhythm, hear his lover's gasps increase in speed and depth.

            Just as Starsky was certain that Hutch was close, he saw his eyes open, seeking Starsky's eyes. Holding that deep, heavy gaze as Hutch pushed in harder than he had before, Starsky knew his lover's climax was near. Hutch leaned forward, pushing Starsky's hips up even higher as he tried to go deeper. Starsky pulled his legs back, holding behind his knees to open himself as fully as he could. Hutch's weight increased until Starsky felt as if he were holding Hutch up all by himself.

            Hutch froze and Starsky could see Hutch was on the edge. Not moving, close to falling into his climax, Hutch leaned forward and kissed him. Starsky kissed back as much as he could, careful not to move too much.

            Hutch threw his head back, his eyes closing as they rolled back, the grip on Starsky's hips growing almost painful.

            "Starssss-K!"

            Only then did Hutch's hips flex slightly, once, twice, three times as his orgasm rode through his body like a wave. Hutch was filling him over and over with his semen, and Starsky wished that Hutch could stay in that moment forever.

            Collapsing forward, touching his forehead to Starsky's, Hutch relaxed onto his partner. Starsky raised his arms to hold him, drawing him as close as they comfortably could in that position. As the next few minutes passed, Starsky could feel Hutch flex his hips once in a while, knowing that Hutch was enjoying the closeness they had even after climax.

            When Starsky sighed at the fact that it was becoming uncomfortable, Hutch caught on and pulled his weight off him, pulling out carefully. He curled up to Starsky's side, throwing an arm over him.

            They were quiet for a few minutes, Starsky enjoying the body-length contact and wishing they were teenagers again so that they could go another round.

            "God, that was good," Hutch breathed huskily, surprising Starsky who thought he'd fallen asleep minutes ago.

            Starsky pulled him close, knowing he was smiling evilly. "What can I say, we're the two hottest studs in town."

            "Good thing we're keeping each other busy, or we'd have the rest of the city up in arms over our arrival," Hutch snickered.

            "Busy enough that I'm starting to get hungry," Starsky admitted sheepishly. "And if we doze off, I'll be starving when I wake up."

            Hutch snorted, sounding amused at Starsky's obvious hint. "You've got so much energy, you take a shower, give me a few minutes to recover, and I'll take mine while you make plans for the evening."

            Deciding that was a good idea, because he really was starting to get hungry, Starsky kissed him and pulled away.

             _Time to go out and find adventure, if it doesn't find us first._

          

 

***

 

 

 

            Roger Martini, aka The Baron, threaded his way through the mass of late-night gamblers outside Taylor's Mine, one of the biggest casinos on the strip. The objects of his attention--Detectives Starsky and Hutchinson--had been making the rounds of many of the casinos on Reno's brightly colored main street. They seemed to be enjoying themselves, eating at a popular buffet, playing the slots, hitting the craps and blackjack tables here and there, making their way from one casino to another as the mood seemed to strike them.

            For The Baron, the evening would have been dull if it hadn't been for the fact that the two detectives themselves were being followed. It had been an interesting game, to follow the four men throughout the evening. The Bay City detectives had caught on quickly that, as soon as they left the hotel, someone was on their tail. The Baron had been amused at the tactics of Detective Starsky, who had led the Reno pair on a merry chase. It had been almost more than he himself could do to keep up with Starsky.

            Hutchinson and Starsky seemed to give up the game during their dinner, eating leisurely and obviously enjoying themselves. After spending some money at the games, they started their tour of the strip, even losing their tail once or twice, only to casually walk by the harried Reno detectives and pretend they didn't notice them.

            All in all it had been an interesting evening, but The Baron was glad to see Hutchinson and Starsky settle on a late night casino show. He had other preparations to make, and was glad to see this opportunity present itself.

            Making his way to the food service area, he moved as if he belonged, eyeing the busy crew as if he had the right to judge them and their work. Walking through the back rooms unchallenged, he kept his eye open for possibilities.

          

 

***

 

 

 

            Hutch settled back in the deeply padded booth, trying to relax in the blaring boom of the midnight show. There were several big-name stars in Reno, but he and Starsky had arrived too late and those were sold out for the evening. There were a lot of smaller "theme" shows in all of the casinos, tailor-made for those who wanted to see bright lights and glitter but who didn't want to shell out much money. Starsky had gotten tickets for tomorrow night to see a famous actress that he was fond of, so for tonight one of the smaller shows would do. They had been able to get seats near the front of the stage, close enough to see every fringe on every tassel the chorus girls were barely wearing in the tribute to old stage shows.

             _My, my, my,_ Hutch thought appreciatively as he sipped his vodka. _They really have some nice looking ladies in Reno._

            Hutch himself didn't mind the strobe lights as much as he wished they would turn down the sound a notch or two. The rest of the show--some talented singing, a fairly good comedian and the chorus ladies in their G-strings and pasties--wasn't Shakespeare, but it had its draw. Ladies in G-strings and pasties were definitely part of that draw.

            Glancing at Starsky, who was sipping his own drink, he could tell he, too, was thoroughly enjoying himself. If there was one thing that becoming lovers hadn't touched, it was the fact that they both enjoyed watching a beautiful woman. And several women, mostly naked, were enough to keep their attention for long, enjoyable, periods of time

             _Wonder if our "escort" is having just as nice a time, or are they stuck out in the lobby, waiting for us to leave?_

            Their tail from the hotel had been obvious, and both he and Starsky decided that either the local cops didn't think much of them, or they wanted them to know they were being tailed. At this point it really didn't matter, since he and Starsky didn't have anything to do with The Baron. They had decided to make it a fun part of their evening to ditch their tail whenever they got bored. Hutch was pretty certain that the two men who were tailing them were also playing the game, since Hutch was certain that if the Reno PD wanted them covered, casino security would be only too happy to keep them on film. Hutch had learned a lot about casino security while in Las Vegas and knew that every mirror--every ceiling tile in the hotel--was probably tied into some camera set somewhere. If the local cops lost them in here, it was only because they wanted him and Starsky to think they were safe from prying eyes.

             _It's still got to get old, trailing the two of us around. We're not even gambling enough to make it interesting._

            The musical number came to an end, the lights dimmed and applause erupted. There was movement in the audience as people got up to make bathroom trips and waiters attended tables before the next part of the show. A waiter came up to them in the darkness and asked if they would like something else. Hutch passed, knowing the vodka would be more than enough for the night. Starsky passed as well. As that waiter left, another stopped at their table, placing a long, thin box in front of each of them, saying, "Compliments of the house," and moving to the next table before they even realized he had been there.

            The words were almost lost in the blare of music that signaled the next number, the sudden glare of stage lights almost blinding after the moment of darkness.

            As the next song got started and the dancers pranced on stage to the tune of "Hurray for Hollywood," Hutch picked up the box in front of him.

            He waited to see what was in Starsky's box. As the lights flickered and the dancers went through their routine, Hutch had to focus to see over Starsky's shoulder. Opening the long box, Hutch was surprised to see Starsky pull out a cigar.

            Both men looked sharply around the room, but there were no waiters near them. Whoever had given them the cigars had moved quickly. Hutch cursed himself for not paying more attention.

             _I should have known this would happen!_ Hutch gave his partner a look and a nod, and both of them started to get up from the table. _I guess The Baron wants us in this, whether we want to be or not. If I had only gotten a better look!_

            They caught a waiter on the way out and asked for their bill. As the young man who had served them before came up with it, Hutch scanned the other faces of male and female waiters, trying to remember some physical detail about the one that had handed them the boxes. Other than it was a tall male, he couldn't remember any more, his eyes having suffered from the sudden lighting of the floorshow.        

            Starsky paid the bill and they made their way out into the lobby.

            Finding a fairly quiet corner in between the crowded gambling area and the showrooms, they turned their backs to the crowd. Hutch held up his box and opened it. Inside was a cigar--a Superba Corona Superba.

            "Just like mine," Starsky said with a sigh.

            Hutch took out the cigar and put it in his shirt pocket. "There's something underneath mine." He pulled out a slender piece of paper, cut to fit the bottom of the box and noticed Starsky removing one from his as well.

            Turning it over he read the words:

            THE FABLED CRANE KNEW HIM VAIN

            He held it out so Starsky could see it. Starsky held his out as well.

            FINE PLUMAGE DON'T MAKE FINE AVES

            "What the hell does this mean?" Starsky asked, turning his paper over and checking both sides.

            "I don't know," Hutch admitted. He took the cigar out of his shirt pocket, looked around to see if he was being watched, then smelled it. It certainly smelled like a Superba Corona Superba, from what he could remember. "But it's either The Baron or someone who wants us to think it's from him."

            Starsky frowned. "So, what do we do? We don't have any contacts here to even start an investigation. We have to be home Friday night and, frankly, I want to be off duty this week."

            Hutch shook his head, not liking the feeling of walking away from something, but there were times when you just had to leave the work to others. "I think we ought to play this one straight, Starsk."

            Looking into Starsky's eyes, Hutch could see he felt the same reluctance to walk away.

            "Yeah, you're right. Guess we ought to behave ourselves this time," Starsky admitted, glancing behind his and Hutch's shoulders. "We're too late to the game to play in it, no matter what cards The Baron is dealing us."

            "And we don't need these pieces of paper--"

            "To have a reason to keep our eyes open." Starsky smiled at him and turned to head down the lobby.

            Starsky had spotted their evening tail and was heading toward them. Hutch followed, trying not to laugh as the two men realized they'd been seen and gave each other a sour glance.

            "Gentlemen," Starsky began grandly, as if bestowing a great blessing. "My partner and I would like to turn these over to police custody."

            The two detectives--one tall, black and distinguished looking; the other smaller, Caucasian, who looked like an out-of-place cowboy--looked at the cigars, papers, and boxes with suspicion.

            "Look," the taller detective said. "It's bad enough that you know who we are and we know you know who we are, but are you sure this isn't some trick to humiliate us further?"

            "Yeah," the misplaced cowboy added. "How do we know what you're up to?"

            Hutch sighed, stabbing the box and cigar in the other detectives' direction. "We were handed these at our table by a man we couldn't see, but who was dressed as a waiter. If you have any way to get a film of the transaction you might find you have The Baron on tape!"

            Giving each other a glance that spoke of two detectives who've been working together for a while, both men gingerly reached out to take the items from them.

            "Come on, you might as well be in on this," the taller man said.

            Starsky and Hutch followed the two men as they hurried through the crowd with their prizes, one of them pulling a walkie-talkie out of his inner pocket and saying something that Hutch couldn't hear.

            They moved quickly to a door next to the cashiers' cages, following the detectives inside. They were suddenly in a long, sterile-looking hallway with a lot of doors. They ended up at the very last door, and the other side of it looked like what Hutch had always envisioned NASA must look like on the inside.

            It was a large room with TV cameras on all the walls, all on and flickering, making the wall look like it was alive and moving. He and Starsky stood back, while the two detectives talked to someone who appeared to be the head of hotel security. Whatever they told him didn't seem to make him very happy.

            The three talked for a minute, then, with a glance to him and Starsky, they moved to the other side of the room to play with a TV and what looked like some kind of tape machine under it. The smaller detective asked a question from a passing individual and, after a minute, was brought a large manila envelope in which he put the cigars, boxes and slips of paper.

            The security guard fiddled with the tape, all three intent on the image it showed, but Hutch didn't think they could get much off of it. Even from where he stood, it looked too dark.

            After a few more minutes of discussion, the two Reno detectives turned back toward them. Neither looked very pleased.

            "So I assume it didn't work," Starsky announced, arms crossed and looking bored.

            "Afraid not," the smaller detective said, shrugging as if he hadn't expected it to. He offered his hand. "By the way, Detective, I'm Darrel Palmer and he's Smithson."

            Smithson gave Starsky and Hutch a tolerant smile while offering them his hand. "Detective Harvey Smithson."

            "But you were right," Palmer continued. "The surveillance in this joint is pinpointed on the front doors and the gaming tables. They only have one camera in the showroom; all they watch for is a brawl breaking out. Can't see much detail, and with the house lights off, we can't make out faces."

            "We found you two only because we knew where you sat."

            "But we're having Security run us a copy of the tape in case our people in the lab can get more out of it," Palmer said.

            "So, how long have you guys been tailing us?" Hutch asked, curious to see how honest the other two detectives would be.

            Smithson gave them a big smile. "Probably as long as you've known we were," he said. "Can't say you've been considered top priority around here, but you also have the advantage of being able to dress appropriately." Smithson waved toward his suit that looked at home in this security room. "Our new mayor has decided that Reno needs a better image, so plain-clothes' cops have been 'cleaned up' a bit."

            "Damned hard to infiltrate people who are laughin' at your monkey suit," Palmer said, bitterness in his voice. "If I'd been allowed to wear my 'tourist' outfit, you never would'a spotted me."

            "Yeah, well, what now, gentlemen?" Hutch asked, feeling the day catch up with him. "I know I'm ready to crash. Are you going to need us for anything else?"

            "No, we know where to find you in case the captain or the chief needs to see you. We'll turn this in and let the college boys try to figure it all out," Smithson said.

            "You goin' straight back to the hotel?" Palmer asked casually. "'Cause if you are, we'll just call it in and have the next guys meet you there. 'Fraid you've got round-the-clock coverage."

            "Sure. Whatever," Starsky said, rubbing the back of his neck, telling Hutch that he was as tired as Hutch was. "We're not here to make trouble, but we don't want any from your end either. We _are_ on vacation, you know, and we really don't appreciate being followed all around town."

            Smithson shrugged. "Can't blame you there, partner. But it looks like we're both stuck with the way this is playing out."

            "Hey, c'mon out here," Palmer said, waving them out into the hallway and leading them back out into the busy gambling area. "Listen, guys, let's make a deal. We've gotta keep you tailed for the next couple of days, keepin' an eye out for that Baron guy, and having to be ready to pull you two in at any time. You could make our jobs real difficult, and spend too much of your vacation trying to ditch us, or we could work together."

            "How's that?" Hutch asked, flashing Starsky a look of amusement.

            "Tell us where you're going and we'll keep back so far you'd swear we weren't there. And to sweeten the pot..." Palmer looked around furtively, digging into a jacket pocket. His actions made Hutch want to look to see if they were being watched as well. Palmer pulled out a sheaf of dollar-size pieces of paper. "I've got all kinds of coupons you guys can use while you're here."

            "Coupons?" Starsky asked. "What kind of coupons?"

            "What in Reno _doesn't_ have a coupon attached?" Smithson said dryly. "Palmer here is related to half the workforce in this city. He's got coupons for anything you could want and several things you've probably never heard of."

            "Yeah, I've even got a couple for the Stallion Ranch I'd be willing to throw in for you."

            Hutch had heard of the place--one of the biggest, legal cathouses in the United States. In Nevada, prostitution wasn't the crime it was in other states, and the legend of Stallion Ranch was known even down in Bay City.

            "Look," Hutch began, not very eager to share their vacation with the detectives, but Starsky jabbed him in the ribs before he could continue.

            "Tell you what," Starsky said, sounding too interested for Hutch's taste, "pass them all over and we'll give them a look through." He shrugged casually. "If we find something we want to do, we'll wander on over and let you know. If not, then we're on our own if we can lose you."

            With Palmer and Starsky exchanging the wide smiles of two men who think they've each got the better part of a deal, Palmer passed the whole wad of paper over to Starsky.

            Hutch was glad when they parted, but uncertain about Starsky's deal with the two detectives. He had no doubt there would be another pair of cops to follow them if he bothered to look, but he didn't want to know for sure. It was bad enough that they'd had their vacation sidetracked once, it was going to be a real imposition to have it constantly interrupted by both sides of the law. And at the rate Starsky was taking inventory of the coupons, it looked like they were going to be obliged to go along with the Reno two. The thought didn't sit well with him at all.

             _And if he even suggests using those Stallion Ranch coupons he'll be free to use both of them, because he's going to find himself sleeping in that extra bed by himself for the next few nights._

           ~~~

 

            Back at the hotel, Hutch put away his toothbrush and turned off the bathroom light. Starsky was sitting cross-legged on the bed, naked, reading through the wad of coupons.

            "I still don't like it," Hutch said, walking over to the bed, as naked as Starsky was. "I don't like these guys tailing us."

            "Well, I don't either, but we might as well make the best of it. We've got one full day tomorrow, then we're on a plane Friday afternoon. Not like anyone is askin' us what we want."

            Yawning, his eyes feeling gritting and his body tired, Hutch pulled up the sheets on his side of the bed. He slipped under them, pushing Starsky with his feet to make him move over.

            "Well, at least put those stupid things away, will you? I'm beat." Hutch turned toward the center of the bed, trying to find a comfortable spot.

            "Hutch, I'm tellin' ya, these things are like gold! Palmer must save a mint on meals with these things. Buy one, get one free: buffets, dinners, pretzels, ice cream, drinks at the bar. Then there's fifty percent off the evening shows--which I could'a used when I bought our tickets--sixty percent off movie tickets, one day's free rental car, free video game coupons and even..." Starsky announced excitedly, shaking one coupon in the air, "five dollars of free chips at most of the casinos. If we used all of these coupons--"

            "We'd be running miles up and down the strip all day, trying to collect on all of them."

            "Well," Starsky said with a growing leer, "we could save some running and go out to the Stallion Ranch--"

            Hutch was drowsy, but not drowsy enough not to grab Starsky's pillow and throw it at him, making Starsky laugh and spilling the pile of coupons on the bedspread and the floor.

            "You can spend all day and all night watching sexy G-stringed girls with bouncing breasts if you want, and I'll be there with you. But you even _think_ \--"

            "Who? Me?" Starsky chuckled as he swept the loose coupons in a pile, then got up to put them on the dresser. "If I even thought of doing something like that, my lover would kill me. He's the jealous type, you know."

            "So I've heard." Hutch relaxed back into the pillow, smiling at Starsky's teasing. "Now turn off that light and come to bed, will you? I'm practically dying here."

            Starsky turned off the light, and the room filled with the dim light from the parking lot that filtered in through the thin curtains. Hutch scooted toward Starsky as he slipped under the covers, kissing his cheek as he settled himself.

            He really was tired and wanted to rest, but waited to see what Starsky wanted to do. If anyone could get his motor running it was his curly-headed, fully-loaded pistol of a lover.

            But Starsky only turned toward him and they settled limbs together carefully, wrapping up in each other.

            Hutch relaxed into the embrace, not opening his eyes as Starsky kissed him lovingly.

            "I love you, you know."

            The shyness in Starsky's voice never failed to grab at Hutch's heart. Starsky said those words a million times a day--in the way he moved and acted, in the way he watched Hutch, and the way he was always concerned about him. But to hear Starsky say them in that uncertain, little-boy voice is what always convinced Hutch that his heart was well and truly owned by this man, and had been for a long time.

            "Love you too, babe. Sweet dreams." Hutch could feel the grin against his shoulder. No mistaking that mischievous smile, even in the dark.

            "And if I dream about those girls?" Starsky whispered. "The ones with the tiny G-strings and the bouncing boobs?"

            "As long as you leave some of them for me to dream about, and you're prepared to act it all out in the morning for my benefit...well...I might be able to forgive you." Hutch laughed, knowing that Starsky wasn't taking any of his threats seriously and glad of it.

            "You got it, stud."

            And with that Hutch drifted off, his arms full of a naked Starsky and his alarm clock turned off.

            Couldn't ask for much more than that for any successful day.

          

 

***

 

 

 

            In a booth in one of the casinos, The Baron sipped his drink, eyes on the thinning crowd of late night/early morning gamblers, mind busy with plans and details. He had stuck around the other casino--where he had delivered the clues to the detectives--just long enough to see that his timing had been, as usual, perfect.

            He had done his homework, had studied the security layouts of the casinos and found that they all followed a predictable pattern. Most had made the mistake of hiring the same designing firms for their security systems, so most were near enough alike to be identical where it counted.

            He knew he was shamelessly indulging himself by giving the two detectives clues to what he was really up to. But there was something irresistible about the idea of inviting them into the game. Maybe it was because they had beaten him in Bay City. He remembered his own mind-numbing shock when he had reached safety after the diamond heist only to find that he had nothing to show for all his expensive planning and hard work. Nothing but cheap glass.

            Instead of being angry, he had found a growing respect for the two police officers who had won the game. He had always planned on requesting a rematch, and it had been too much temptation when he had seen the two on the plane. His successful completion of this project was so probable that he had found the excitement seemed to be missing. The local police were easily fooled, spending all their time watching his "hired thugs" and trying to figure out how he was going to hit that armored car convoy. They had easily fallen for the smoke screen.

             _Really, do they think I would stoop to something that crude? That dangerous?_

            Of course they did, because they didn't stop to think, didn't do their homework like they should have. It should have been obvious that he was after another prize. One more artistic and much more valuable than mere money.

            And if the detectives could figure out what his target really was, then he would have a more enjoyable game than he had originally anticipated.

             _Don't disappoint me boys._

          

 

***

 

 

 

            Starsky rolled over sleepily, reaching for Hutch. The warm, sweet body he was expecting wasn't there and the coolness of the sheets spoke of a long absence.

             _Hutch? Where--?_

            As soon as he heard the crinkle of paper from the other bed, he started remembering earlier parts of the morning. He remembered Hutch being restless, getting up and telling him he was going out to get a newspaper. Starsky had a vague memory of dozing fitfully until Hutch had returned, then drifting back to sleep.

            Glancing in that direction, he saw Hutch propped up against the headboard dressed in shirt and shorts, long legs stretched out and a paper in his hands.

            "Hey, Sleeping Beauty. Good morning." Hutch turned to smile at him. "There's a box of donuts and a carton of milk on the dresser. I couldn't find any decent coffee around here."

            Starsky stretched and yawned. "Would've been a better morning if you'd've woken me up like yesterday," he complained sleepily.

            Hutch shrugged slightly, looking apologetic. "Sorry, buddy. You were really out of it."

            Throwing back the covers, Starsky rubbed at his face and sat up. "That's okay. You all right?"

            "Yeah, I just couldn't get those clues out of my mind."

            Starsky smiled, recognizing the signs of Hutch on a case. He didn't doubt for a minute that Hutch's mind had tried to figure out the obscure clues in his sleep. "What time is it, anyway?"

            "About ten o'clock."

            Starsky stood up and walked over to the dresser, opening the box of donuts. Hutch hadn't taken any and Starsky wasn't surprised. Grabbing the still cold milk container and snagging a donut, he padded over to the bed. Hutch gave the donut an unhappy look but didn't say anything as Starsky arranged the other pillow against the headboard and settled himself next to Hutch.

            "Don't get too full," Hutch warned. "I'm in the mood for a big brunch."

            "Sounds good to me." Starsky took a bite of his pre-brunch snack and eyed the paper Hutch was reading. Didn't look like much he'd be interested in. "You find anything in there to help us figure out those clues?"

            "No, but I did talk to Palmer and Smithson. They just came on duty when I was coming back from the store down the street."

            "I bet they were glad to see you come up on them," Starsky said around a drink of milk from the container. "There's nothing like having your marks catch you tailing them time after time."

            Hutch smiled. "Actually they didn't try to hide from me. I think they really trust us not to make their job any harder. I get the feeling that no matter what their superiors think, those two really do believe that we're on vacation and don't know anything."

            "Did they have any news?"

            Hutch reached over and took the milk from Starsky, taking a swallow before answering.

            "Well, they took in the clues while the second team followed us here. Apparently the big shots haven't made heads or tails of them. They didn't say, but I got the feeling that things are going on in the background with The Baron and the armored car thing, so they're concentrating on that. I don't think that those in charge are giving any real attention to the clues at all."

            "Maybe they think The Baron is trying to side-track us away from the case. That they're red herrings."

            Hutch looked thoughtful. "They might, but I don't. We didn't know a damn thing about any of his plans, and the local police wouldn't have known or cared that we were here except for that note his henchmen got."

            "The Baron is teasing us."

            "That's the only reason I can think of why he'd include us. He wants to play another round with us since he lost the last one."

            "So...." Starsky took the milk back, taking a gulp. "Let me guess. You want to see if you can figure out the clues."

            Hutch gave him a sheepish look. "Look, Starsk, I'm sorry--"

            "Don't be," Starsky interjected, rolling over to lean snuggly against his partner. He looked in Hutch's eyes. "I knew The Baron's challenge was going to be like an itch we both need to scratch. There's no reason why we can't do a little research here and there during our vacation. If we don't crack that crazy code of his then at least we tried, and if we do--"

            "Then we tell Palmer and Smithson and let them take it to their superiors. What they do with it is their problem."

            Hutch was smiling again and Starsky immediately felt as if they had made the right decision. If they ignored the clues, they'd never feel right about their trip, wondering if they could have done something to help.

            Deciding that there had been enough time spent on the issue, Starsky leaned over to kiss Hutch and was met with an enthusiastic response.

            "Care to take a shower with me before we get to 'work'?" Starsky smiled, wiggling his eyebrows in invitation.

            Hutch laughed, using the newspaper to swat at Starsky's ass. "Get going, you lech. We need to eat."

            Doing his best to wiggle his rear as he walked, Starsky headed for the shower.

             _Well, it's one way to spend the day._

            They had decided to catch lunch then find the local library to do some research. Hutch knew it wasn't exactly what most people did on vacation, but Starsky also knew him well enough to know when he had hold of something that he couldn't let go. They had informed Palmer and Smithson of their plans, and had received a lunch recommendation in return.

             _Just a couple of hours,_ he promised himself over his club sandwich. _If I can't find what I'm looking for then I'll drop it. But I_ know _there's something familiar about that passage._

            Whatever it was that was trying to fight its way out of his memories, was going to bug him until he figured it out. Sitting quietly as Starsky finished his lunch in the crowded restaurant, Hutch tried to think back to when he had woken up. He had come fully awake hours before Starsky, sure that he had a vital piece of the puzzle. Then, like most dreams, it had disappeared while he was trying to capture it.

             _'The fabled crane knew him vain.' Now why would that ring a bell?_

            "Ya know," Starsky said around a mouthful of his lunch, "I keep thinking about that one line. Wasn't it 'Fine plumage don't make fine av...uh...?"

            "Aves," Hutch supplied, wiping his mouth with a napkin. "It's a class of animal that includes birds."

            Starsky gave him a pleased look. "Knew you'd know what it was. But that sentence doesn't sound right to me. The grammar is wrong."

            "Yeah, you're right." Hutch took out a pen and wrote it out on the back of a paper napkin. "It should be 'Fine plumage doesn't make fine aves'."

            "Big words. It doesn't sound right," Starsky complained, looking at the bill the waitress just dropped on their table. He reached in his pocket and started digging through their stash of coupons. "If the 'aves' word is short for birds, then plumage is short for feathers, right?"

            "That would make it 'Fine feathers don't make fine birds'." Hutch felt himself frowning. "I've heard that somewhere before."

            "So we just have to find out how the next one connects. 'The fabled crane knew him vain' has got to hook up somehow; otherwise, The Baron wouldn't have bothered sending it to us."

            They both got up, Starsky going to the cashier to pay with cash and coupon. Hutch waited outside, noticing how much hotter it was after only an hour in the air conditioning. At least the day was going to be bright, if fairly hot.

            A thought struck Hutch as he got into the rental car. He reached out to put a hand on Starsky's arm. "Maybe we're going about this all wrong."

            "Think so?"

            "Sure!" Hutch looked at Starsky, feeling that part of his morning revelation coming back to him. "Tell me, what do you think of The Baron's plan--the one to rob the armored cars?"

            Starsky turned the engine on and adjusted the air conditioning vents, but made no move to do any driving. His face was serious with thought.

            "Doesn't sound like him."

            "Precisely! The Baron's profile showed that he went after more artistic items, artwork or jewelry. And when it came to the robberies, he _always_ did the actual theft himself."

            "And an armored car robbery is big, messy and depends on _way_ too many people," Starsky agreed. He looked over at Hutch with a look of dawning comprehension. "The robbery is to get the cops' attention, 'cause it's not something he'd even be interested in pulling off! So that means that he _is_ after something _else_."

            "That's what the clues are for. Not to involve us in the bank job, but to give us clues to what he's really after."

            "So you think we can find an answer at the library?"

            Hutch shrugged. "We can give it a few hours and try. I think I've heard that one phrase before. I've got an idea where to start. You can check out the local papers and see if there's anything going on tomorrow that would catch The Baron's attention."

            "Okay, sounds like a plan."

            Starsky pulled away from the curb, having gotten directions from the waitress. The library wasn't too far away.

            "You don't mind?" Hutch asked quietly. They really needed this vacation, and Starsky had his heart set on being a real civilian for a while. "We could just drop it here."

            Starsky shrugged, giving him a bright smile. "So we use our heads for a while. I guess they won't fall off. If we don't try we won't be able to relax anyway."

            Hutch smiled back, glad once again to be with someone who understood him so well.

     

          ***

 

 

            The library was a surprise to Hutch. He'd expected something large, business-like and...well...library-like. What they found was a two-story building with a large, open glass front. Once inside, Hutch found himself on a ramp that cut through the center of the building, displaying three levels on both sides, from the second floor to the basement. The library was completely open in the center, with many plants along the ramp and lining every free space on all the other levels. The air was cool, but not cold, and the plants were green and healthy-looking. Walking to the side of the ramp, he could see down into the open area of the basement, which contained what looked like the children's section. A fountain supplied a small man-made stream that moved across the bottom level, filling the quiet building with the sounds of bubbling water.

            It looked and felt like an oasis, with the water and large groupings of greenery, the fanciful stairways and green shaded reading nooks.

            It took them both a few minutes to orient themselves. A librarian at a desk at the head of the ramp helpfully pointed them in the right directions. Hutch left Starsky with a collection of local newspapers and went to the section he thought might hold his answer.

            After a couple of hours of research and one dead-end after another, Hutch excitedly searched for Starsky with a book clutched in his hands.

            He found him where he left him, in a quiet nook surrounded by plants and shelves of magazines and newspapers. Starsky looked up at him from behind a newspaper.

            "There you are," Starsky said excitedly. "Know what The Baron is after? Betcha I do!"

            "How can you?" Hutch asked quietly, looking around to see if they'd drawn attention. "I just now found the passage I was looking for!"

            "Okay," Starsky grinned at him, voice now a whisper, "you go first. Then we'll see if I'm right."

            Hutch sat down next to Starsky, turning pages in the book quickly in his excitement. "At first I thought the 'fine feathers' thing was part of a quote. I've looked through every book on quotes they've got in this place and didn't find anything to match. But then..." Finding the page, he put it on the table and pointed out the passage he was interested in. "I finally realized that the word 'fabled' in the other sentence meant that it _was_ from a fable, not a quote. So I looked up various fables and look what I found?!"

            Starsky took the book and read the passage Hutch pointed to.

            "The Peacock and the Crane. A peacock spreading its gorgeous tail mocked a crane that passed by, ridiculing the ashen hue of its plumage and saying, 'I am robed, like a king, in gold and purple and all the colors of the rainbow; while you have not a bit of color on your wings.'  
   
 "'True,' replied the crane; 'but I soar to the heights of heaven and lift up my voice to the stars, while you walk below, like a cock, among the birds of the dunghill.' Fine feathers don't make fine birds."

            "See?!" Hutch asked excitedly. "The 'fabled crane' and the 'fine feathers' passage! Right there in 'Aesop's Fables!' We used to read these in school. I knew I'd heard it somewhere before."

            "That's great!" Starsky said with a delighted smile. "Now can you guess what The Baron is going to go after?"

            Hutch looked at Starsky a bit sheepishly. "Okay, let's hear what you think it is. I don't have a clue."

            Starsky turned a couple of newspaper pages over and pointed at a small article in one of the back pages. "Whaddya see?"

            Hutch quickly scanned the article. It had to do with a retirement dinner for one of the owners of a local casino--The Olympus. A Raymond Wyatt, the elderly owner of the casino, had announced his retirement in favor of a son, and was being honored at a dinner in his own restaurant by various civil leaders. There was a long list of things he had done for the city since he opened the casino almost fifty years ago. It was on the second column that one word caught Hutch's eye.

            "Peacock?" He read that part of the article again. "What's this about retiring the 'Golden Peacock' at the same time? What are they talking about?"

            Starsky pulled out a brochure and handed it to Hutch. "The story is at the back."

            Turning it over, Hutch saw a bright and shiny picture of a golden peacock. He went on to read about its history, learning that about thirty years ago Wyatt, newly rich from his successful casino venture, had had the eighteen-inch gold peacock made as his first wife's birthday present. It had been given a home at The Olympus, where countless visitors had been able to view it through protective glass and security guards. Several years after the death of his wife, he had lost the peacock over the turn of a single card in a poker game between him and a rival casino owner. The peacock had disappeared into the home of the rival casino owner, although the two had still remained friends. Then about five years ago, the two had played another high-stakes game, with the peacock at stake once again. Raymond had won the piece of artwork back, and it had been on display at the entrance of The Olympus' main dining room ever since.

            "It's perfect," Hutch found himself whispering. " _This_ is what The Baron is after."

            Starsky nodded sagely. "I looked up some old articles about it. It's eighteen inches tall, twenty inches wide and is actually hollow, so it's not as heavy as it looks. It's worth quite a bit for the gold, but is actually worth much, much more because of the craftsmanship involved. I didn't recognize the artist's name, but apparently it's a one-of-a-kind deal. An article five years ago said it would be worth three quarters of a million in the art circles."

            "If I remember correctly," Hutch said, "the peacock is the sacred bird of Hera, and Hera was the wife of Zeus--"

            "Who lived on Olympus. Apparently Raymond's first wife was nicknamed 'Hera' at the casino. So that sort of makes sense as a present for her."

            "Hey," Hutch said. "Maybe The Baron has been hired by that other casino owner to steal it back."

            "Don't think so." Starsky shook his head. "Some of the articles over the years seem to hint that Raymond lost it on purpose the first time. Seems his second wife was doin' some crowing about gettin' the bird for herself, so Raymond 'lost' it to a good friend. He divorced and married again, then divorced again about six years ago. One year after his divorce was final they played that second card game--which was more publicized than the first game--and he 'won' it back. Now that he's retiring, he's planning on taking it off of public display. And I think," Starsky said, his voice growing even quieter, "that they arranged the games that way to keep his second and third wives from getting it."

            Hutch found himself nodding in agreement. He'd seen people do stranger things for love.

            "Okay, so we know what and why, but do we know when?"

            "It's the 'when' that ties it all together," Starsky reminded him. "This Saturday and Sunday are the last days of the display. There'll be locals and tourists all over the place to take one last gander at it. But it's off display now--"

            "Let me guess, it's being cleaned." Hutch smiled as the whole thing fell into place. "So they take it away to brush it up for its last hurrah, and while it's sitting in the back room that would be a great time to make it disappear."

            "While the cops in the area are all over the banks, protecting them, the Feds are geared up to follow the armored cars around, and no one is worried about a golden bird that the locals are so used to having around they don't even give it a second thought."

            "And when it disappears, The Baron will get not only the prize but a lot of public attention he's not gotten before."

            Hutch sat back, his mind going over and over the scenario. "But why hand this to us on a platter? He had to have known that we would try to figure out what he's doing. This is almost too easy."

            Starsky shrugged. "Maybe he's bored. He did say he wanted a rematch with us, and now he sees an opportunity to bring us in on it to spice up the job. As much as he's gotten away with in the past, he's got to be well set up by now. He's never been caught, has more money than he needs tucked away somewhere overseas, and isn't getting a big thrill out of his 'hobby' anymore."

            "So you think he wants to be caught?"

            Starsky smiled. "Could be. Could also be we're going to make big fools of ourselves and will look like first class idiots by the time we leave."

            "You think anyone will believe us?"

            "Well, with that passage and the clues that we were handed, they'll probably give it a look."

            "And laugh at us behind our backs."

            "That's what I figure," Starsky smiled, leaning over to elbow Hutch gently. "But we're on vacation. Next time they actually want us to bring him in in handcuffs they'll have to arrange it ahead of time with Dobey. They can laugh at us at their own peril."

            Hutch laughed himself, nodding in agreement. "Let's get copies of this and see if we can spot Smithson and Palmer. We can dump these off with them and let them call it in."

            "They're outside, across the street. In a dumpy blue Ford that's first cousin to yours."

            "Well, then, lets get this done and brighten up their day."

          

 

***

 

 

 

            The Baron got out of his car, enjoying the bright, clear skies. It was a beautiful day, and a trip to the library was just what he needed.

            He hadn't intended to follow the detective pair today, having other things he should be attending to, but there was no real hurry now, and he would enjoy a few restful hours inside that beautiful building.

            Not to mention the suspense was starting to get to him. He really did want to know if they had been able to unravel his clues.

            Knowing those two, he probably should worry more about them being _too_ smart, rather than not smart enough.

          

 

***

 

 

 

            Starsky waited at the front door of the library for Hutch to finish with the copying. It was only going to take a few minutes, so he volunteered to play "spot the cops" once again so they could walk right up and give Smithson and Palmer the paperwork. Starsky was glad to see the two were still there.

            He laughed when Smithson actually raised a hand and waved at him.

             _Nice guys. I like their style._

            He was deep in thought when the door opened and someone bumped into him as they entered.

            "Oh, excuse me!"

            Starsky looked up and found himself looking at Roger Martini.

            "How nice to run into you, so to speak!" the tall man exclaimed, grinning at him. "How is your vacation so far?"

            "Fine," Starsky said politely, not really wanting to start a conversation. The guy was nice enough, but was a talker when he got started.

            "That's great! I'm just here to see what I can find in apartments. Found out I have to qualify as a resident before I can file for divorce. Well worth the wait, if I do say so myself."

            "I'm sure it is," Starsky said quickly, looking for Hutch and feeling relieved as he saw his partner on the way down the ramp. "And it looks like we're ready to go. Nice seeing you again!"

            He grabbed Hutch's arm and hurried him through the door, letting Hutch know by his actions that they didn't need to stop and visit. At least _he_ didn't need to.

            It was still hot and bright at mid-afternoon, and Starsky felt sorry for the two cops stuck in a car in this heat. He gave the two a smile as he and Hutch crossed the street.

            "So, how're the spinster sisters today? Looks like you're working hard. They actually pay you two to goof off like this?" Starsky asked with a mischievous smile.

            "Yup," Palmer said with a long, lazy drawl. "We pull in a load of bucks just sittin' on our backsides all day, staking out such exciting things as the public library. Never know when someone's gonna get it in his head to take off with a rare book or two."

            Smithson, sprawled out in the passenger seat, grunted, looking tired and bored. "Don't you two have anything better to do on your time off? Hell, I'd rather chase you in and out of casinos all day than sit here and watch the shadows grow."

            Hutch, who had gone to the passenger side of the car, handed Smithson the copies he'd made. "Well, why don't you two take a gander at this? Pretend like you're actually accomplishing something."

            Smithson took the papers, glancing over them quickly, puzzlement on his face. He passed half of them to Palmer. Starsky walked around the car to join Hutch at the window. He and Hutch stayed quiet while the two men read.

            "See anything that rings a bell?" Starsky asked after a few minutes.

            "Well, shit," Smithson said, looking through the papers a second time. "You'd think we should've been able to pull this out of thin air."

            Palmer grunted, rolling his eyes at his partner. "You, maybe, but I don't think I've ever heard of this Aesop guy. Do we buy it?"

            "Yeah, I think so," Smithson answered, looking at Starsky and Hutch who were practically hanging in the passenger window. "We'll call in and see if we can't cut you two loose so we can give this to the big shots. But don't be surprised if they laugh it off."

            "Yeah, even if they believe it's what The Baron wants you to think, they'll still keep their noses on the armored car heist."

            "They've been lusting after capturing The Baron red-handed on that case too long to give up on it."

            "Wouldn't expect them to," Hutch admitted. "But you can't say we didn't do our part."

            "Beyond the call of duty," Smithson agreed. "Okay, we've got it now and will make our report whether the big brass bites at it or not. You'll both be in the clear if that bird disappears."

            The four said their good-byes, and Starsky and Hutch decided to go back and change into their evening clothes to hit the strip early. They had that ten o'clock show that Starsky had tickets to, and there were several casinos they hadn't lost any money in yet.

           ~~~

 

            Later that evening after the casino show, Starsky found himself smiling as he and Hutch left the showroom with the crowd.

             _Great show! I think she looks even better in real life than on the screen! She sure can sing! I wonder if I can get an autographed picture?_

            He knew Hutch had enjoyed himself, too, even though he wasn't as much of a fan of the actress as Starsky was. And the best part was they hadn't been thrown any clues or reminded that they had a job to be back at on Saturday morning.

            Then he spotted Smithson and Palmer lounging over by a row of slot machines, obviously waiting for them.

             _Oh, great_ , Starsky thought, his good mood tempered at the sight. _Just the way I wanted to end the evening._

            He did notice right off that they were in civilian clothing this time. Looking at Hutch, he could see his partner was just as tired of seeing these two as he was, but at the same time he knew it wasn't personal.

            "Okay, what's up?" Hutch asked as they walked up to the pair.

            "Nothin' much," Palmer answered with a wide smile. "Just out slummin' around. Smithson's wife is out with the girls tonight, so we decided to come and give you two a hard time."

            "Any news on the case?" Starsky asked, wondering if these two would feel comfortable enough to let them in on the local news.

            The two Reno cops looked at each other and shrugged.

            "We turned in the info, they looked at us like we were Martians and had us fill out reports. They don't seem to be interested in the peacock theory and are now even less interested in you two than before," Smithson said with a grin.

            "They think it's a red herring, so I doubt you'll be called in for questioning. In fact," Palmer leaned forward, causing the other three to lean in to hear him. "They've called off all the tails on you guys, so you've got the rest of your vacation to yourselves."

            "That _is_ good news," Starsky said, then added, "I guess."

            "Yeah, makes us feel real important to know we carry so much weight around here," Hutch added, a slight look of disappointment on his face.

            "See?" Palmer said to his partner, a mischievous look on his face. "I told you; you just can't please some people."

            "Apparently." Smithson smiled at them. "Actually, we wondered if you guys wanted to hit the bars and hang loose. They've got some really nice places around here with better shows than these. Less glittery but more talent."

            Starsky looked at Hutch and saw a slight nod.

             _Why not? I've got a feeling they want to do some talking about the case._

            Normally they'd be tired of work intruding on their vacation, but this interruption wasn't their usual type of case. Usually, when off duty, they fell into a case by accident, through acquaintances or because they themselves were the target. But when the bad guy sends you such an interesting invitation it was hard to pass it by.

            "Okay, lead on," Starsky said. "Show us one of these secret places you locals have hidden from us tourists. But I'm keeping the wad of coupons for a while."

          

 

***

 

 

 

            Hutch sipped his drink--vodka with a twist. Smithson and Palmer had taken them down a lot of back streets to the outskirts of the city, to a small jazz bar that was dark and comfortable inside. It wasn't too crowded, not surprising for a Thursday night. The lady singer had a good voice and a nice selection of songs. Hutch wanted to like the place, but it reminded him too much of Marianne Owens to be totally comfortable. Another memory that crept up on him once in a while to stick a pin in his conscience. He glanced over at Starsky, glad to see he seemed to be enjoying himself.

             _I guess he didn't spend as much time at that club as I did, so this one doesn't trigger any bad memories. Not one of your finer moments, Hutchinson._

            The four of them sat at a back table and had spent the last few hours trading cop stories and each telling a little bit about themselves. Starsky had even gotten out the wad of coupons Palmer had given him, and the two were going through them like kids talking about trading cards. Starsky had picked a few out for their last day in Reno, giving the rest back to Palmer.

            So far, the talk had been about everything _but_ the current case. Hutch got a feeling that was going to change when Smithson seemed to get serious.

            "Listen, you guys, I know we shouldn't be talking about this, but Darrel and I wanted to let you know what's going on."

            "About the peacock?" Starsky asked, throwing Hutch an "I knew it" look.

            "Yeah," Palmer replied. "When the big boys decided to throw your info into the 'in' box and leave it there, Smithson and I went over to The Olympus to have a little talk with some of the security guards over there."

            "We sort of like to keep on their good side, if you know what I mean," Smithson added.

            "And they told us that the peacock is secure in the back room and is being buffed up for its last presentation this weekend. The 'official' unveiling will be Saturday morning."

            "They going to have extra security this weekend?" Hutch asked.

            "Like the White House," Smithson said. "This town pretty much runs twenty-four/seven, so starting Saturday morning while moving the peacock back to its perch, they plan on having not only hotel security on overtime but are hiring extra bodies to come in and stand watch. Once it's unveiled there will not only be the security surrounding it but all the tourists pressing their noses up against the glass as well."

            "So if it's going to get stolen, then Friday night would be the time." Starsky ran his finger over the top of his glass, looking lost in thought. "Are they taking this seriously? About The Baron, I mean."

            Smithson took a sip of his own drink and shook his head. "That's the problem. Palmer and I can't let them know about The Baron, the armored car plot, or the fact that the big boys from the government are buzzing around the area. That's confidential info. So without the details..."

            "They don't know what's going on in the outside world, so they don't know what kind of thief they should be planning against." Hutch shook his head. "I can see why they don't think they're vulnerable. Hardly anyone hears about The Baron unless they're in the loop."

            "That's what we thought," Palmer admitted, emptying his glass and signaling for another. "So Smithson and I thought we might hang around The Olympus tomorrow night, see if we can make sure nothings happens."

            "Or get yourself a nice little collar," Starsky said with a knowing smile at the two Reno cops.

            "Never hurts," Smithson admitted, smiling back. "And we two lunatics were wondering when your plane leaves."

            "Not until eleven tomorrow night," Starsky admitted, throwing Hutch a look that said he was uncertain. "But I'm not sure...."

            Starsky let his sentence hang. Smithson and Palmer glanced at each other.

            "Understood, guys," Palmer said, sounding as if he meant it. "But if you want to show up at The Olympus sometime tomorrow afternoon, at about six when the crew getting the peacock all shiny goes home for the weekend, then we'd be happy to run into you and chew the fat."

            "Thanks for the invite, guys," Hutch said. "Who knows where we'll be?"

            Smithson looked at his watch and groaned. "Make that _today_. I gotta get home."

            "Hen-pecked," Palmer said with a small smile.

            "Jealous," Smithson responded, giving his partner a thump on the shoulder as he got up and snagged Palmer's drink. He gulped half of it before setting it back down in front of his partner. "You need another wife to worry about you. C'mon, you gotta take me home."

            "I need another wife like I need another alimony payment to shell out," Palmer muttered, giving Smithson an evil glare. "I told you to shoot me if I ever got near any of these wedding chapels again."

            "Got my gun all ready," Smithson laughed. "You'll never know what hit you."

           ~~~

 

            After the two Reno cops left, Hutch decided against a refill, not wanting to get drunk on their last full night of vacation.

            It was just as well, as a few minutes later Starsky tugged on his arm, signaling that he wanted to leave. Hutch followed him out.

            Neither man said anything as they got into the rental car, but Hutch slid close to Starsky so that their thighs were touching and his arm was draped across the back of Starsky's seat. It was a beautiful evening, having cooled off quite a bit. Away from the main strip, Hutch could see a hint of stars. He wished he could be out of the city so he could really see the sky. He relaxed to the gentle strains of romantic music that came from the radio.

            "Wanna go for a drive?" Starsky asked quietly. "Get out in the country for a little bit?"

            Hutch was surprised, thinking they were headed back to the hotel room. "You've got an idea of where you're going?"

            "Sure." Starsky gave him an evil smile. "Don't you trust me?"

            "Trust you to do what?" Hutch smiled back.

            "Got an idea."

            It was clear that Starsky didn't want to elaborate, and Hutch decided he really didn't care where they went.

            "Okay. Whatever."

            After a few comfortable minutes, it became clear that Starsky was heading for a highway out of town. There was almost no traffic this time of night and once out of town, where houses grew sparse, their headlights seemed to be the only light around.

            Hutch snuggled closer, knowing no one could see inside the dark car.

            "Wish we could cruise our beat like this," Hutch said, hand playing in Starsky's hair.

            "Guess we'd be a bit too obvious if we did," Starsky said with a small laugh. "We'll just have to behave ourselves for a while longer, huh?"

            "Wish we didn't have to."

            "I know. I do, too. But one day...."

            "One day...what?"

            "One day, if things change," Starsky said quietly, "or we get to a point where we don't give a shit about them anymore. Then we'll march right up to IA's office and show them how we feel about each other. Lips, tongue and groping included."

            Hutch laughed at the image. He could just see the stunned response of the IA officers in his mind. "Someday, huh?"

            "Sure." Starsky reached over to pat Hutch's thigh. "No one says we have to be cops forever. If we're lucky we'll be able to be both, cops and a couple. If not, then when we're done we can tell them to kiss our asses."

            "But we shouldn't have to."

            "No." Starsky sighed. "We shouldn't have to."

            They traveled on for a while and Hutch recognized the route. They had come this way to go to Virginia City, and when Starsky turned off toward the mountains, he had an idea of where they were headed.

            The mountain road was narrow and seemed even more dangerous at night than it had during the day. Hutch relaxed and watched out the windows, as the valley seemed to fall down into the darkness. There were no cars on the road, and Starsky wasn't in any hurry, so he got to watch the scenery unfold below them.

            They reached a lookout point they had stopped at before, at the top of a mountain where the city was completely blocked from view, as were the lights. What had been a gorgeous view of a nearly empty valley below now was a showcase for the stars in the clear sky.

            Hutch got out of the car, the cool air more refreshing than any air conditioner could ever be. They were not far from the stone wall that kept the cars in the small, circular parking area. Starsky turned off the lights, and it took a second for Hutch's eyes to adjust.

            When they did, he felt like he was inches from a ceiling of stars.

            "I thought it would be like this," Starsky said as he stood beside Hutch. Starsky put an arm around his waist just as Hutch put one over Starsky's shoulders. "I figured up here, with the city behind the mountain, you could get a better view."

            "It's wonderful," Hutch said quietly. The mountains were only dark silhouettes now, the moon behind them, and the sky was almost moving with the glitter of the twinkling stars.

            "C'mere." Starsky pulled him toward the stone wall. "Let's sit for a while."

            They sat on the wall, their feet hanging over the edge into what looked to be a bottomless fall, but Hutch knew the ground was only a foot or so lower than their feet. He could see the dark outline of pine trees here and there, could smell the sagebrush. None of those things kept him from feeling like he was sitting on the top edge of the world.

            They sat close, arms around each other.

            "Sorry I made plans without askin'."

            "That's okay--"

            "No." Starsky shook his head, and Hutch turned to see him looking out at the scenery. "It's not. Not really, even though it's turned out okay. I felt you needed to get away, but I needed to get away, too, Hutch. After Alice's death...."

            "Yeah, I know." Hutch sighed, drinking in the strong warmth at his side. "We've both had some bad times lately."

            "A lot of good times, too," Starsky insisted. "But I just needed to get far enough away from the city to figure out if I wanted to go back."

            Hutch pulled Starsky closer, feeling a chill at the words. "You ready to quit?"

            Starsky didn't answer, but the arm around Hutch's waist tightened almost enough to hurt.

            An animal noise, faint and thin, came from somewhere below them. A cool breeze blew by them, and the stars continued to dance in the sky.

            Hutch waited.

            When the answer came, it was hardly louder than the breeze that had blown by.

            "No. I'm not. But so help me, Hutch...."

            Hutch waited another long moment.

            "So help me, I'm afraid I'm going to regret staying. Someday it's going to catch up with us. Like it almost caught up with us when Gunther's men shot me. Every day we're walkin' the trapeze wire, and one of these days we're both going to fall off. But right now, this minute, I can't say I'm ready to call it quits."

            Hutch stayed silent, letting the words float off into the distance so the darkness would swallow them. He wasn't sure he knew what to say to that painful admission--that bit of fear they always carried with them.

            "I'm not ready either, Starsk." Hutch had decided on the truth. "I know what you mean, about wondering if I'll regret staying. If I'll regret pushing you to come back, helping you to get what you wanted."

            "You once said that if I hadn't made it back--"

            "I might have quit. I don't think I could ever be the same kind of cop without you that I am with you. Maybe a desk job or something else if a job opened up I might be interested in. But not on the streets."

            "Did you want to leave?"

            Hutch heard the tinge of guilt in Starsky's question.

            "No," he replied. "I was content to wait for your return. And I _wanted_ you to come back because _you_ wanted to. I didn't want the choice taken away from you. I might have left the force if things had turned out differently, but I waited because...well...because I wanted to keep doing what we were doing."

            "And now?"

            "And now?" Hutch repeated, eyes tracing the mountain's silhouette. "Now I feel like we're still accomplishing something. I guess when I helped bring Gunther in, I found I could really make a difference. For a while, I felt like we were just barely treading water, that last year.... Nothing seemed to make a difference, and I felt that everything we did was wasted." Hutch shrugged slightly. "I don't know if I can explain it better than that."

            "Getting burned out. How many times we've seen it happen, Hutch? How many times have we heard about it happening?"

            "Too damn many," Hutch said bitterly.

            "I felt like you needed a safe place to unwind, and I needed a quick reality check. I had to get us out of the city long enough to see it from a distance. But I'm not ready to stop being a cop, or stop doing what we're doing."

            "Then it was worth the trip. I've certainly enjoyed it. I'm glad you took charge and got us on that plane, even if I was dragging my heels a bit."

            Starsky turned, bringing their faces close together. "Wouldn't have come without you. Guess you're stuck with me and my impulsiveness."

            As Starsky's lips touched his, Hutch found that the seriousness of the last few minutes seem to disappear, leaving only the rightness of their being together.

            They kissed softly at first, lips only, moving from mouths to cheeks, to noses, then to necks. Butterfly touches that spoke more of internal feelings than sex. They held each other close, laughing a bit as they rubbed nose tips.

            "If we go any further you _know_ the Highway Patrol is gonna pull up. I doubt they'd be very understanding of two naked guys doin' the nasty in a parked car at the best scenic stop on the whole mountain."

            Hutch laughed heartily. "Guess not! We should head back, so we can get serious."

            "Sounds good to me." Starsky pulled away, leaving a kiss on Hutch's lonely lips.

            Hutch hated to stop, wished they could neck and enjoy the view like teenagers, but it was just too dangerous to get anything started in such a public place, even if it was in the middle of the night.

            They were only about a mile down the mountain, when they passed a Highway Patrolman going the other way, headed for the spot the two detectives had left not long ago.

            "Someone is still looking out for us," Hutch said, smiling at the feeling of having gotten away with something.

            "Let's hope we're always on their mind, whoever they are," Starsky said with a laugh. "'Cause I think we're in for a hell of a lot of close calls in the future."

            "Amen!"

       

          ***

 

 

            The drive home was spent in silence, the romantic music on at that very early hour of the morning filling the car and echoing in the minute touches they made. Thigh against thigh, arm along shoulders, hands on the nape of a neck and on a knee. Nothing overt, but every touch needed and treasured.

            The hotel was quiet when they finally pulled up to it--no one moving, no lights on but the "vacancy" sign and the lights from the office.

            As they entered, Hutch blinked at the strong light that filled the room as he flipped the switch. He went to make sure the door was locked behind them, checking the curtains to make sure they were pulled all the way shut. Starsky moved the bag from one bed to put it next to the bag on the other, choosing the bed they would share for the night.

            Before Starsky could take anything off, Hutch stopped him with a hand on his arm.

            "Don't move, okay?"

            Looking interested, Starsky nodded. "You got somethin' in mind?"

            "You trust me?" Hutch said with a teasing smile and echo of their earlier conversation.

            "Trust you to do what?" Starsky gave him a wink.

            "Just stay here."

            Going to the bathroom, Hutch dug out supplies from his shaving kit. He crossed the room and opened his bag on the other bed. Digging inside, he brought out a thick, but stubby, white candle that looked a bit nicked and dented from its ride in a side compartment.

            He grabbed a clean ashtray from the dresser, setting the candle in it on the nightstand between the beds. Lighting a match from the book he'd picked up at the jazz club, he lit the candle and ran over to turn off the light.

            It wasn't as dark as he had wished, but the tired room took on a warm and cozy glow. Starsky's smile, as he stood over by the bed, was as soft and loving as his expression. Turning on the radio, he was lucky it was set at the same station they'd been listening to all night.

            "Care to dance?" he asked.

            Starsky's responding smile made Hutch's heart race. He held out his arms for him.

             _Just because we can't do this in public doesn't mean we have to miss out. I know how you love to dance._

            They embraced, neither moving for a moment as the slow song drifted across the room, Starsky's arms around his neck and Hutch's hands on Starsky's hips. They pressed close, temple to temple, chest to chest.

            Hutch relaxed, feeling Starsky do the same. They both leaned into each other, holding the other gently as they began to sway to the music.

            It felt warm, cozy and like _home_ to Hutch as he emptied his mind and moved with the music, following Starsky's body as it led them in small circles. Hutch splayed his fingers across Starsky's sides, caressed them, sliding his hands to the broad back. He pressed their bodies even closer together, wanting to feel Starsky's heart beat, needing more.

            Starsky's hands were in his hair now, fingertips massaging his scalp. A light kiss was placed on his jaw. Hutch could hear Starsky's contented humming to the music as it vibrated through his chest.

            Hutch pulled Starsky's shirt up and ran his hands on the warm skin. He massaged the muscles, moving his hands higher and higher until it only took a slight movement to raise the shirt, inviting Starsky to slip out of it.

            The coldness left in Starsky's place as he moved away made Hutch want to pull him back. As Starsky lifted the shirt over his head Hutch did the same. They came together again, slowly wrapping their arms around each other, moving slightly side to side in matching rhythm to the music. Hutch closed his eyes, sliding his face into Starsky's curls. They were soft and springy, caressing his face even as the hairs on Starsky's chest made loving circles against his skin as they moved.

            He adored the way his lover was covered with soft, curly hair. As a teenager, Hutch had longed for chest hair and had been very disappointed when nothing developed. There were a lot of blond men around Duluth, among his friends and family, and many of them had almost as much body hair as Starsky did. He had always been a little jealous, feeling more than a bit deficient in that area. With Starsky he had secretly been jealous at first, but now he thoroughly enjoyed the difference in them. He loved the feel of hair against him, loved the way even Starsky's dark lashes and brows curled. He loved to nuzzle the wild sideburns that framed his face. Hutch seemed to need Starsky against him, as if every pore in his body was hungry for the man's touch. He kissed Starsky's temple, nosed gently in his ear as Starsky returned the favor, both of them moving slowly, teasing each other.

            Hutch was more than half-hard in his slacks now, leaning his cock against Starsky as they moved, feeling Starsky's cock grow harder against him.

            He moved his hands down, slipping under the waistband of Starsky's slacks, able to get his fingers a short way beneath the form-fitting cloth. He moved his fingers as much as he could, even as Starsky was pressing kisses on his collarbone.

             _Oh, how I_ need _him!_

            His need was more than body deep; it went down to his soul, filled his thoughts as he tried to pull them even closer together. Starsky was a warm, flowing fountain of life that Hutch needed more than anything else, and the clothing between them had gone from being exotic to being an impediment to his fulfillment.

            Starsky got there first, his hands leaving Hutch's shoulders to pinch and tweak their way down Hutch's sides, their chests still together, skin tingling like an electric buzz between them. Starsky's thumbs were in his waistband, urging the slacks down as far as they would go.

            They pulled apart mere inches, each fumbling with the other's buttons or zipper. In seconds they were both kicking slacks across the room, their naked bodies pressed back together.

            The next song that came on was a bit faster, and they both ground against each other to the beat. Both cocks were hard now, and Hutch found himself gasping as they rubbed each other just right, sending a jolt through him that made his toes curl.

            Their kisses grew faster as well, bites and nibbles that were becoming harder, more demanding. Hutch felt the heat in him build up, fueled by the taste of Starsky in his mouth, on his tongue, the unique scent that meant safety and friendship and belonging. It was all wrapped up in Starsky, and Hutch was starving.

            The song ended, and, as their movements slowed, he gently pushed Starsky backwards, letting him know it was time to go to the bed.

            They moved in sync, never letting each other go, finding the bed was suddenly under them both.

            Panting with desire, cock hard and yearning, Hutch pulled away a bit, looking at Starsky in the candlelight. Starsky's eyes were hooded, dilated with desire, a flush making him look wild and wanton. And in those eyes, behind the desire, was love.

            A love that Hutch knew he needed to acknowledge often, for to take it for granted was to lose it.

            "David Michael Starsky," he began, his voice husky, his throat so thick with emotion he didn't know if he could say the rest. "I love you. Love you more than life itself."

            Starsky's smile went from lusty to soft, his eyes grew a little shinier. His voice was low as well. "I love you, too, Hutch. I can't even tell you how much. Words would never be enough."

            They kissed then, hungrily, each fighting for possession of the other until Hutch let Starsky in. Hutch sucked on the tongue that explored his mouth, loving the slick, exotic taste of his lover.

            Their bodies were writhing together, rubbing and thrusting randomly. Hutch rolled with Starsky, to put him flat on his back, putting first one knee, then the other between Starsky's strong thighs.

            Hutch pulled his mouth away, fighting Starsky who didn't seem to want to let him go. Hutch latched onto Starsky's neck, sucking and nipping at the tender spots he knew so well. With Starsky's hands moving from his hair to his shoulder, kneading and pulling, Hutch moved down to the hollow of his throat, licking the salty flesh and cataloging every sound, every moan and hum that Starsky let loose.

            He moved down to the broad, muscular chest, swirling chest hairs on his way to the right nipple. He placed his mouth over it, sucking it and the skin around it, first hard, then soft, using his tongue to flick at the sensitive tip, feeling Starsky buck under him as he tried to pull away and force more of himself into Hutch's mouth at the same time. After a moment, Hutch covered the wet, swollen nub with a thumb, working his way to the second nipple, kissing, biting and pulling chest hair with his teeth so that his lover would never have a second's rest.

            He sucked in the left nipple carefully, knowing that Starsky's left side was just a bit more sensitive. He kissed it and caressed it, still thumbing and pinching the other one.

            Starsky was moaning now, wiggling and panting, his skin hot and slick. Starsky's hands were in his hair, on his neck and shoulders, moving constantly. When both hands gripped a handful of Hutch's hair, he stopped playing with his nipples, knowing then that Starsky was on the edge.

            Hutch moved down Starsky's torso with his mouth, touching, kissing and tasting all the different flavors of skin type and consistency, giving the scars their own attention. As he moved he could feel Starsky's hard cock poking at him, trying to rub against whatever part of Hutch it could find. Hutch tried his best to stay out of its path, not wanting Starsky to be able to rub off on him. Not just yet.

            As he licked at Starsky's belly button, Hutch moved his hand to Starsky's ass, knowing his legs were spreading wider and wider with each passing moment.

            " _Please_ , Hutch! Do _something_! Gotta _do_ something!"

            Starsky's pleading cut like a knife through the roar of desire in Hutch's ears, the sound making his own cock bob hungrily.

            Hutch nibbled the sensitive skin just below Starsky's navel, giving Starsky's taut balls a quick squeeze before carefully tracing his fingers down behind his soft sac, following the sensitive seam of skin to the tender-skinned opening.

            Keeping up the kisses and nibbles to the top of Starsky's pubic hair, his fingers caressed a ring around Starsky's opening, one finger playing with the center.

            "Need you, Hutch! Need you _in_ me!"

            Hutch's mouth was near the base of Starsky's cock now, and he could feel it pulse, could smell the arousal. He held off on the impulse to take the beautiful organ in his mouth; he wanted to make Starsky wait.

            Pulling his mouth away, Hutch reached over to the nightstand for the lube he had put there. Squeezing a line of it on his middle finger, he leaned back over Starsky, kissing his stomach as his hand found Starsky's ass once again. Finding Starsky's opening he rubbed it softly, then pushed his finger inside, twisting it around to spread the lube.

            Starsky moaned again. Hutch could see his head thrown back, his eyes half closed and his mouth open in pleasure. Starsky was breathing heavily, his curl-covered chest moving quickly, the pulse in his neck giving Hutch the rhythm to use in his preparation. Another finger was added to the one moving inside him, and Starsky's legs came up even higher, giving him more access. Starsky's hands were on his head, carding Hutch's hair through his fingers.

            Hutch knew when he found the right spot, could feel the small nub inside Starsky that would throw sparks through his insides. He could feel the difference in the flesh, rubbed it carefully, and moaned himself as Starsky's body bucked at the touch.

             _"THERE!_ Yesyesyesyes, _there!"_

            Starsky was ready, and Hutch didn't think he could wait any longer.

            Grabbing a pillow, Hutch lifted Starsky's hips up to slip it under him. Starsky pulled his knees up, and the sight, so provocative and trusting, made Hutch feel like he was shaking. His heart was beating a frantic call for completion; his cock aching and needing more than his own hand that spread the lube up and down his shaft.

            Gripping himself, he leaned forward and guided the head of his cock to the dark rose-colored opening, groaning in pleasure as his cock head touched it. Starsky sighed deeply, pulling his knees even closer to his chest, his head back and a pleasure-grimace on his face.

            " _Love YOU!"_ Hutch gasped, pushing into the tight, hot space, his cock throwing electric shocks to his gut, his heart, as it was slowly buried inside his lover's body.

            Starsky gasped, exhaling deeply in a low hum that seemed to shake them both.

            Hutch didn't stop, keeping the pressure constant, wanting to enter his lover in one smooth, slow stroke. He didn't stop when his pubic hairs brushed Starsky's ass, didn't stop when the base of his cock was firmly entrenched, didn't stop when he was in as far as he seemed to be able to get. Hutch leaned his weight on Starsky, forcing Starsky's ass cheeks even farther apart, using his weight to go as far as it was ever going to be possible to go.

            Starsky gasped again, his eyes opening wide. Hutch watched him closely, looking for any sign of pain.

            "I can't get inside you far enough," Hutch choked out, his eyes meeting Starsky's surprised ones. "No matter what we do, no matter how we do it, I'll never be as much a part of you as I want to be. As I need to be." He tried to smile, wanting Starsky to know that he accepted the fact as a part of life. "But I will always be a part of you. I can't be _me_ without you!"

            Starsky's eyes searched his face, a loving smile of understanding taking over his own. "I can never have you in deep enough. Never be physically in _you_ deep enough. Impossible to do." Starsky's hand came to cover Hutch's heart, fingers spreading to cover his chest. "But in here we'll _always_ be a part of each other. _Always_."

            Hutch backed off a little, pulling out slowly until his cock was over Starsky's prostate. He pushed, angling up so the head rubbed at it, pleased to see Starsky gasp and grab at the bed covers.

            He wanted to fuck, to move and thrust, but he wanted to see Starsky fly even more. As Starsky's face took on the grimace of pleasure, he kept up the slow rubbing, pulling Starsky's legs to his own chest so he could control his penetration.

            "Oh...oh...oh...oh...please...yes...oh..." Starsky moaned between pants, echoing the rhythm of Hutch's angled thrusts. His whole body was tense, muscles straining, neck arching his head back, even as Starsky's head moved back and forth. Starsky's knuckles were growing white with his grip on the bed. "Don't stop...ooooooooh...don't...so close...oh, _please_!"

            Starsky's cock was hard, flat against his own body, leaking pre-cum; his balls were tight to his body under the soft, curly fuzz that coated them.

            It was when Starsky's left hand started to unfold that Hutch knew the time had come. Before Starsky could grab at himself Hutch did it for him, gripping the base of the large cock and pulling at it in a firm grip, feeling the soft skin move against the blood engorged core. When Starsky's glans slid into his grip, Hutch twisted ever so slightly, spreading the pre-cum that was still leaking over the top of his glans and Hutch's palm.

            Using the lubrication, feeling the lava burn in his own cock and balls, Hutch pumped Starsky once, then twice, hearing himself groan deeply as he tried to hold off his own climax.

            "Ahhh.... Uhhhhh...." Starsky's body froze, his face a grimace, eyes squeezed shut. Hutch thrust once more, hand moving quickly on Starsky's cock "YESSSSSSssssssssssss...."

            As Starsky exploded in his hand Hutch milked him from the base of his cock to the tip, carefully trying to match the pulsing he could feel in his hand and the ripple of abdomen that accompanied Starsky's climax. The powerful spasms of his internal muscles gripping and releasing at Hutch's deeply seated cock like another hand.

            He lost it as Starsky started to take deep breaths and his eyes rolled open, leaving him looking glazed and incredibly smug.

            Hutch thrust hard, the hot slide putting mind-blowing pressure on his needy cock. He pulled out, anxious to repeat that moment, enjoying the motion itself. Then he thrust again, finding himself moving faster, pushing harder. Muscles straining, he held his breath as he pumped, feeling the electricity flowing through his body from his cock and balls grow close to overwhelming.

            He opened his eyes, focused on Starsky's face, and drank in the look of love and drowsy pleasure before he hit the wall.

            Hutch hit it hard, the orgasm taking over his body, taking his breath away, tightening his muscles until he felt something would snap, making his cock and balls feel huge and electrified. It seemed to go on forever, throwing sparks around his brain and making his insides tremble. As the pulsing wave diminished, Hutch felt himself weaken with them, gasping as if he would never be able to breathe right again, feeling his heart still racing in his chest.

            He was emptied and weak, trembling and dizzy, not sure where his limbs were and not caring. He was on a body that was furry and satiny, warm and compliant--where he needed it to be, the perfect resting place. There was a loving voice that wooed him awake, but kept him relaxed. It asked him to do things and he did them, not paying attention to what was going on. He moved, Starsky moved, he was wiped off with something--none of those things important enough to bring him out of his mental and physical cocoon of satisfaction.

            He heard the candle being blown out. Then furry, hard muscles were under his head, a heart beat lazily into his ear, and his body was wrapped around the person he loved.

            It was so perfect he couldn't help but fall asleep.

          

 

***

 

 

 

            Starsky was the first one to awake the next morning, but only because his bladder was threatening to revolt. He carefully slid out from under Hutch, all of his muscles feeling happy from his workout, although his ass was a bit sore. A happy, well-fucked sore, but one that reminded him that he needed the bathroom for more than one thing.

            From the light coming through the curtains and the relative silence from people outside who were coming and going, he realized it must be mid-afternoon. Glancing at the room's alarm clock, he saw it was close to two o'clock. Time to get up before room service came to clean up.

             _We're going to have a hell of a time getting used to a regular schedule. This is almost like when we were on the night shift. Takes a while to get used to going to bed earlier than three or four in the morning._

            He padded to the bathroom, took care of business and decided on a shower. He was hungry now, and this was their last day of vacation.

             _So what are we going to do for an encore? Wonder if Hutch is up for a movie this afternoon. We never seem to get around to going to the movies when we're home. Or we could hit the strip again._

            His thoughts were interrupted by the bathroom door opening. Through the frosted glass of the shower, he could see Hutch lumber into the room, heading for the toilet. By the time he finished his shower, Hutch was brushing his teeth. Their eyes met in the mirror and Starsky gave him an evil leer.

            "Any more nights like that," he began moving to embrace Hutch and rub up against him, dripping on the smooth skin while his eyes never lost contact with Hutch's, "and the hotel staff is going to be real surprised when they come in to clean up and find two cops who've passed away from pleasure. In the same bed."

            Hutch snickered around his brushing, then spit into the sink. "Good thing you told them not to make the room up until after three."

            "It's Reno," Starsky shrugged. "They're used to night owls sleeping late. And I made sure to tip the manager enough that he was happy to make sure his people complied. But..." Starsky let Hutch go long enough to look around the room. "We're cutting it close on this one."

            "Not enough time left to mess up the other bed, huh?" Hutch asked as he stepped into the shower.

            "Not if you plan on _both_ of us doin' it, but that reminds me...." Starsky toweled off quickly then walked naked over to the second bed, opening his suitcase and stuffing yesterday's clothing and underwear into a side pocket, throwing in the used candle as well. Pulling out the last of his clean slacks and shirt, he dressed quickly then moved the bags to the used bed. He then messed up the other bed so they wouldn't draw the attention of the hotel maids.

            "It's a shame you have to do that without me," Hutch said, grinning from the doorway.

            "You could join me, anytime."

            "No, I like to watch you. You always were sexy going solo."

            Starsky stuck his tongue out at him.

   

          ***

 

 

            They left to go to the strip and find a good buffet for a leisurely meal. They didn't have to worry about packing yet because Starsky had paid for the room until Saturday noon. Starsky figured they were on the same wavelength since it wasn't until dessert that the topic of The Baron came up.

            Digging into his pie, Starsky decided that they'd better decide what they were going to do. Before he could swallow his first spoonful, Hutch, who was eating a concoction of mixed fruit, beat him to it.

            "We do have a reputation to keep up," Hutch said as he speared a few pieces of his dessert.

            Starsky knew exactly what Hutch was saying. "We've beaten him once already, it would be a shame to let him get away this time."

            "Smithson and Palmer will be hanging around The Olympus. Also the hotel will have their own staff."

            "Didn't sound like the local PD is going to pay much attention to us solving those clues," Starsky said, shaking his head. "I haven't seen a tail today, so I think the locals have their hands full with all that bank stuff. They're probably brushing off this peacock thing because they've got too much time and energy invested in the armored car heist to worry about anything else."

            "Well, a bank heist would be a bigger haul and more embarrassing, not to mention dangerous, if The Baron was really after it."

            "But it's just not his style," Starsky argued. "If they'd studied his files like they should have, it should'a rung a warning bell with someone."

            "So...you want to stake out The Olympus for a while?"

            "No," Starsky gave Hutch a mischievous look, "but I wouldn't mind visiting it, as a tourist, sometime this afternoon."

            Hutch grinned back. "Wouldn't be butting in if we're sightseeing, right? But what if we miss our flight?"

            Starsky shrugged. "Well, we have the room for tonight if we want it. If we help catch The Baron, I don't think Dobey could yell too loud at us for getting home a bit late."

            "And if we miss the plane and don't have The Baron in handcuffs?"

            Starsky smiled knowingly at Hutch. "Then we apologize, listen to him yell while we just grin at him like two idiots, and he'll give up on trying to get through our thick skulls. Eventually."

            "Well, it looks like we've got a few hours to kill until six o'clock then, doesn't it?"

     

          ***

 

 

            They walked up and down the busy strip, watching the crowds on the sidewalk and inside the casinos slowly get thicker and thicker as evening came on.

            Starsky thought there was a different feel to this city than there was to Las Vegas. It was smaller and the casinos weren't as big, nor were they as far apart, but there was a certain charm to the fact that the city had a long history.

            They spent some money gambling, eventually losing all that they cared to lose. Starsky knew that they'd never again have the luck they'd had in Vegas, and that was fine with him. Winning a lot of money would be nice, but he wasn't looking for that kind of a break to "fix" anything in his life. He enjoyed his life too much to want to change it too much. So they only gambled a little, enjoying the games for what they were.

            At five-thirty, they drove the car down to The Olympus. The place was impressive, and farther down the strip than they'd been before. It was a tall building, about fifteen stories tall with a huge parking lot.

            The parking lot was pretty full, even at that early hour. The first floor entrance was mostly glass, and inside the decor seemed to be mostly blues and gold, with white wisps here and there that were supposed to look like clouds. Starsky decided people were supposed to feel like they were walking through a city in the clouds--like the real Mount Olympus was supposed to be. Like most of the casinos they'd been in so far, it was ridiculously overdone, but fun nonetheless.

            Especially the pretty girls in togas and high heels that ushered them in and served drinks.

            He and Hutch walked around the busy, loud gaming rooms, stopping to watch people play at the tables once in a while. Basically, all the games in all the casinos were the same, and only the decor was different. It was in the back rooms where each casino made its mark. Some had a lot of small shows during the evening, others had famous entertainers in fewer, and more expensive, shows. Most had a couple of different type of dining rooms--from the cheap buffets to the very expensive and exclusive rooms. The Olympus had both types of shows, along with a buffet, various stores and the "Peacock Room." He and Hutch followed the directions to the latter, keeping an eye out for Security and the two detectives they knew would be there.

            Starsky didn't see anyone but the obvious "suit 'n tie" security men in place. The Peacock Room was guarded by a man in a tuxedo, who carefully checked his reservation sheet before letting anyone in. By the look of some of the clientele that entered, some from an apparently hidden back entrance to the casino, the meal would probably be the type that cost an arm and a leg. Next to the door, but far enough down the hall to keep the regular tourist traffic from blocking the entrance to the restaurant, was a large, glass-enclosed case.

            He and Hutch walked up and took a look at the items inside. The first thing he noticed was the center of the case, with a plush, purple velvet display that was empty. The plaque below it labeled it as the resting place of the "Golden Peacock" and a note that it would be displayed for the last time that weekend. There were other objects inside the case relating to the history of the casino, and Starsky noted, a lot of pictures and personal objects of the owner's first wife.

             _So the other two wives didn't exist, as far as Raymond Wyatt was concerned._

            Starsky elbowed Hutch and nodded to the back of the case. It was obvious that the whole back of the case could be moved aside and the contents worked with from the back. That wall would be accessible from inside the restaurant. Hutch nodded, letting Starsky know he saw the set-up.

            They moved away, across the wide hallway, stopping beside a large potted tree. Hutch, his eyes on something down the hallway, put a hand on his arm.

            "We've got company."

            Turning, Starsky saw Smithson approach them with a smile. The tall black man was dressed in white shorts and a striped shirt, looking like a tourist.

            "Evening, gentlemen," Smithson smiled, actually looking happy to see them. "I see you've looked over the set-up here. Nothing in there right now worth stealing, and I've noticed that hotel security is now at its lowest in this area."

            "So you think they'll be in full force tomorrow?" Hutch asked.

            "Yeah, with the peacock safe down in the basement for now, they're not worried about this empty display."

            "You _really_ think The Baron is after the peacock?" Starsky asked. "Or is this just an 'in case it's true' stake-out for you?"

            Smithson was quiet for a moment, chewing on his lip as he thought. He shrugged. "I don't know a lot about The Baron's past, but I have to say that from the little the Feds let slip that the armored car set-up does sound like something he wouldn't be interested in. My guts tell me that this is more his style. So, why not check it out?"

            "Where is the peacock now? Downstairs somewhere?" Starsky asked.

            Smithson nodded. "Palmer is talking to a couple of security guards he knows, to see if he can get the layout. This place has a whole floor downstairs for staff--the laundry for the rooms upstairs, the security staff, store inventories, costume storage and floor maintenance. Cooking staff and kitchen supplies are here, on the same level with the restaurants.

            "How open is the casino?" Hutch asked, eyes on the tourist traffic that seemed to pass them by without a second look.

            "The place is wide open. The doors never close, and there are front and side entrances for the tourists and those renting rooms, along with a semi-private entrance at the back for those who want to eat in the Peacock Room without rubbing elbows with us low-lifes."

            "What about the stores?" Hutch nodded in the direction of the numerous small shops that lined one side of the long, wide carpeted hallway. "They open all the time?"

            Smithson frowned for a moment, eyeing the shops closely before he spoke. "I think the clothing, toy, souvenir shops, and the small National Bank branch close fairly late, about nine or so. The restaurants keep day only hours, but the coffee shops and both bars are open twenty-four hours. Of course, the kitchen is open for room service all day, as is the laundry."

            "So there could be people coming and going through these rooms all the time, and Security may not see any need to stop them and ask questions if it looked like they belonged," Starsky said.

            "This place never really sleeps; it just slows down for a few hours to clean up and restock," Smithson answered.

            "Maybe Palmer will be able to add something to this," Hutch said, nodding toward the far side of the hall.

            Palmer, dressed in jeans and a cowboy shirt, was sauntering toward them. They greeted him quietly, the four of them moving closer to the wall, trying to create a more private space.

            "Fancy meeting you two here," Palmer said with a wicked smile. "Here's the deal. Security is full of themselves and doesn't see any problems with the peacock sitting on its ass downstairs. They've never had it stolen before, so don't feel that they're in any danger. They've got plans for extra security for tomorrow, but not until six in the morning. Then they plan on setting up some sort of line of guardrails in front of the display to help keep the visitors moving along, past the display, in an orderly manner."

            "So it doesn't have any extra guards on it now?" Starsky asked.

            "Nope," Palmer replied. "It's downstairs, in one of the locked security rooms, sitting on the same shelf it's been sitting on all week while it's been cleaned. All by its lonesome."

            "Sounds like the perfect set-up for The Baron," Hutch said.

            Both Reno officers nodded.

            "So, any ideas?" Starsky asked looking around the huge hallway. "Where do we start?"

            "Well, you know this guy better than we do. He wanted you here, so if this is a rematch between you guys then you must have some idea of what he'd do; otherwise, you wouldn't be much competition."

            "The Baron likes to use distraction. Get everybody running to the other side of the building and then go in. In our case, we had to move our entire operations to a less secure area, which gave him his chance."

            "So when we see something big happen, we should go the other way?"

            Starsky smiled at Smithson's question. "Something like that."

            Palmer's expression turned sober. "Are you guys packing? I'm afraid this could get serious."

            "Ankle holsters," Hutch moved his leg just enough to show Palmer the bulge of the gun under his slacks. "We've got our badges, too, for show. But if we can, we'll let you guys do the actual grunt work. Less paperwork that way."

            "Then I guess we can't do anything else but wait and see what happens," Smithson said, looking frustrated.

            "Here's hoping we recognize his work before we stumble over it," Hutch said.

          

 

***

 

 

 

            The Baron smiled to himself, as he placed the last of the devices in its pre-determined location. So far the day had gone very well, with all of his work unfolding according to plan. If everyone was keeping to schedule, right now ninety percent of the local police force would be following the armored cars from bank to bank, the Federal Government would be ready to escort them to the San Francisco Federal Reserve, the local thugs he had hired to case the banks and get the shipment schedules would be waiting at home for further instructions that would never come, and Starsky and Hutch would be somewhere downstairs waiting to catch him.

            He had carefully watched them in the hallway and had been pleased to see things going well.

             _It is, of course, a calculated risk to invite them along, but one that has elevated the game considerably._

            After doing his own research on the two cops, he knew that being this close--and failing--would work on their nerves more than anything else. It had just been too good an opportunity to pass up. There was always time for a more proper form of revenge later. Now it would be enough just to rub their noses in it.

            Backing out of the vent, he pulled off his surgical gloves and stuffed them in his pocket. Everything should now be in place. Time to start the fireworks and put his plan into motion.

          

 

***

 

 

 

            Hutch sighed to himself, walking through the gaming tables once again. The four of them had been walking around the casino for two hours now, and nothing strange had presented itself. It was almost eight o'clock and they had two hours left before their flight. If something didn't happen soon, he and Starsky were going to have to call it a day and leave in time to check out of the hotel and return the rental car.

            There were some things Hutch learned about himself as he made the casino's rounds. The first was that gambling got boring very quickly. The second was that he never wanted the job of a security guard. It had only been a couple of hours and he was tired of the place, the games and the people. He needed a bigger space to move in. At least working the streets gave him that.

            He was just about to head for the store area when a series of loud alarms went off and the lights flickered. As most of the tourists looked around in confusion, he moved quickly toward their agreed upon meeting area.

            "Attention please. Attention please." The background music had quickly been replaced by a booming voice. "The Olympus now asks all visitors to please make an orderly departure through the nearest exit. We appreciate your cooperation and will have the technical difficulties sorted out as soon as possible. Blue light, 12-15."

            Hutch could only guess that the strange code at the end was a signal to all gaming table personnel, as they had stood motionless until it was announced. As a group, they started to stuff all their currency into the special slots that sent the cash to the basement. Most were not allowed to keep more than a certain amount of currency on their table anyway, so it was a quick procedure to get rid of the rest. The announcement was repeated, almost overwhelmed by the loud talk of speculation, fear, and some disgust from those who must have had their winning streaks interrupted.

            Hutch fought the moving crowd down the hall to their meeting spot, having to show his badge in order to get past the security people who were now shepherding the guests toward the emergency exits.

            Smithson was already at the rendezvous.

            "There's been a report of smoke from the upper floors of the hotel. The fire department is on the way," Smithson reported, sounding out of breath.

            "Didn't see anything up front," Hutch said. "You see any of the smoke? You think it's a real fire or a smoke screen?"

            "Didn't see it myself, so I can't say."

            Hutch didn't for one minute believe it was anything but a smoke screen for The Baron. Timing was too precise.

            "Guess it wouldn't help to call in the on-duty cops?" Hutch said.

            Smithson shook his head. "Believe me, the ones on duty who can come will already be on the way."

            Both men looked around for their partners, not wanting to take off unless all four of them had touched base. The outward movement continued, as did the announcements. Hutch kept his eyes open, scanning the confused crowd moving past them.

            Palmer came running up next. "There's smoke coming in from the vents in the kitchen area. They've almost got all the diners out."

            "Same with the hotel rooms. There must be smoke bombs in the vents somewhere," Hutch said, eyes frantically searching for Starsky. "Great cover! Who's going to notice anything going on in this evacuation?"

            The crowd was starting to thin, as most of them had already been herded outside. Hutch could see shop managers closing up their stores, checking their cash registers and pulling down the rolling gates that guarded the doors.

            Hutch breathed a sigh of relief when he saw Starsky weaving through the crowd.

            "The basement's being evacuated and the security teams are covering the exits. What's up?"

            "Smoke from the vents in the hotel and kitchen areas," Hutch repeated. He turned to Smithson and Palmer. "What would Security be doing about the peacock right now?"

            "Most of Security will be helping hotel management do a floor-by-floor sweep upstairs, making sure all the rooms are evacuated. They'll also be stationed at the exits and checking the bathrooms."

            "Leaving the rooms downstairs vacant?" Starsky asked.

            "Just a few will be downstairs, and they'll be concentrated in the money collection area. A few will probably remain to watch the monitors and make sure there aren't any looters. It's a maze down there, so I don't know if any of them will have a good view of the hallway. If The Baron takes out the cameras in that area he'll have a clear shot at that door."

            Starsky grabbed at Hutch's arm and pulled. "Let's go!"

            The four of them, badges held high, made their way to the staff entrance, bypassing the elevator and using the stairs to go down to the basement. The complex underneath was immense and fairly empty, but it wasn't long before they were challenged and let through after their badges were inspected.

            A tall, blond man in a suit halted them as they made their way past the storage and laundry areas to another set of secure doors.

            "Palmer! Damn it, man! Is this why you were asking all those dumb-ass questions? It's going to be worth my job if you don't tell me what the hell is going on!" The man looked Starsky and Hutch over quickly. "You vouching for them?"

            "Sure. Hutchinson, Starsky, this is Riggs," Palmer introduced them without preamble. "He's Security Manager for this shift. We think that this is a smoke screen--"

            "For the peacock or the cash rooms?"

            "The peacock," Palmer replied.

            "Damn! I knew it!"

            "How?" Starsky asked.

            "If they were going to hit the cash rooms they would've hit us before we made our latest bank deposits. We just dumped a fortune in cash at the banks yesterday. I _told_ my boss we should have put the peacock in a more secure place."

            "What's the story so far?" Smithson asked Riggs.

            "Reports from upstairs are that one of my men pulled a smoke bomb out of a vent before he was overcome. We're advising the firefighters of what we've found. There's too much smoke for just a few devices. Must be a couple dozen at least."

            "And your security down here?" Hutch asked.

            "I've got a few men who've volunteered to stay by the money processing areas, I couldn't order anyone to stay in a fire situation. I've been in the monitoring room and saw you guys coming down. Come with me and we'll see if we can nip this in the bud!"

            They all ran down the well-lit hallway, turning random corners. Hutch tried to catalog their route in case they had to make their way back out on a run.

            This hallway dead-ended, Riggs stopping before a large metal door. He looked relieved as he yanked on the handle and the door didn't budge an inch. "Great! No one's been here yet."

            Hutch got a chill down his spine as he reached out to touch the door, feeling how thick it was. He looked at Starsky, who looked back at him with what must be the same thought.

             _The Baron has already been here! I'd bet our last dollar that it's already gone and on its way out of town!_

            "Can you open this up?" Starsky asked Riggs.

            "No, I don't have the master key. Once it's secure only the head of Security has the key. He's on his way in right now."

            "Go wait for him," Palmer snapped to Riggs, his eyes on Starsky and Hutch. "We'll need to check."

            "But--"

            "Riggs, go! Don't put your job in any more jeopardy!"

            Riggs looked at him a moment before it dawned on him that they thought the peacock was already gone. Going pale, he nodded once and pulled out his walkie-talkie, calling for someone upstairs to let him know when their boss had arrived.

            "What's upstairs, right above this area?" Hutch asked Riggs excitedly.

            Riggs looked at him blankly for a moment. "Oh, it would be the toy store."

            Starsky reached out and put a hand on Smithson's shoulder. " Hutch and I'll go upstairs and see what's goin' on."

            Hutch turned with Starsky and they ran back down the hall. Hutch was glad they'd both been paying attention to the twists and turns of the corridors so that they both could find their way out. They had to flash their badges to keep from being tackled by Security who apparently guessed that if you were running, you must have done something wrong.

            Almost out of breath, they hit the stairs and climbed up to the main level, stopping once past the staff entrance and in the main hallway.

            "So," Starsky began, panting, looking up and down the hallway. "We're thinking that The Baron has already gotten in that room and is using the distraction to get the peacock outside, right?"

            "Yeah, but if so, he's already outside and long gone. Maybe if we can find the way he got into the room we can find a clue as to where he is now."

            "Down there," Starsky announced pointing to his left. "It was down there."

            Following Starsky, Hutch sprinted down the empty hallway to the cage-enclosed door. The pull-down cage only covered the door area, though, and as soon as Hutch got an idea he glanced at Starsky who shrugged and muttered, "Well, this is gonna cost us!"

            Moving as one, they grabbed at a small, potted tree, pushed it over and picked it up by its trunk. Using it as a battering ram, they turned their faces away and struck the glass window in the front of the store.

            Hutch heard hundreds of pieces of glass hit the tile floor inside. They used the tree once again to remove any dangerous shards left hanging. Dropping the tree, they carefully stepped in through the now empty window frame, knocking the display toys every which way.

            They quickly searched the front area. Starsky held up his badge to keep out the upset security guards who came running at the sound. Hutch heard Riggs' voice over the walkie-talkies they carried, ordering his men to stay back and leave them alone.

            This was a fairly large store, filled with stuffed animals and small souvenir games, and toys that had the Olympus' logo all over them. Seeing nothing amiss in the front area, Hutch headed for the back rooms behind the counter.

            There was a small hallway, with one door on either side and one at the very end. Hutch opened the first door on his right. A small office. The one across from it was what looked to be a fair-sized storage room full of toys waiting to go on the shelves.

            Hutch opened the room at the end of the hall. He stopped as he entered. It was a fairly large, single-toilet restroom. What held his attention was a small electric saw sitting on the floor in a pile of plaster dust and tiles, a sizable hole in the wall behind them.

             _Looks like we're a little late. And more than a dollar short._

              

 


	2. Part Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Are things really as they seem, or does The Baron have some other cards up his sleeve? Starsky and Hutch will soon find out!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This story is part of the "Starsky & Hutch Virtual Slash Season", Year Five, Episode 12. You can find information about the Virtual Slash Season at Fanlore, with a link.

 

  


When the Chips Are Down, Part Two  
  


****

Starsky & Hutch Virtual Slash Season, Year 05 - Episode 12

****

***

"Ah, shit!" Starsky exclaimed behind him. "He's already been and gone. What you want to bet that the dark space behind that hole somehow connects to the room underneath?"

"No bets," Hutch said sourly, raising his hands and letting them fall helplessly. "I'll bet he just walked out of this bathroom with his prize during the evacuation. He's probably miles away and laughing at us right now."

Starsky turned back into the hallway, slapping the wall angrily. Hutch sighed, leaning against the wall, crossing his arms.

"I'm telling you," Starsky began, sounding irritated, head down, one hand on his hip and the other stabbing the air toward Hutch, "that he's done this just to get back at us for that diamond thing we screwed up for him. He wants to make us look like fools."

"C'mon, Starsk! He didn't even know we were coming. He just wanted the Golden Peacock and we just happened to be close enough for him to rub our noses in it. It's the local PD and the Feds who are going to look like fools when those armored cars aren't touched and they remember that they were given a warning they chose to ignore."

"Yeah, that's right," Starsky said, cooling down a little. "But it just galls me, ya know? We were _so_ close!"

"Which only counts in horseshoes," Hutch replied automatically. He sighed, knowing Starsky was right. It did rankle, which is probably the reason The Baron invited them to try to catch him. He turned and walked slowly toward the front of the toy store. 

He could hear Starsky following him for a few steps, then stop.

Turning, he looked at Starsky who was standing in the entrance to the back rooms, a far away look on his face.

"What?" Hutch asked, knowing that something besides the obvious was nagging at the back of his lover's mind.

Before he could say anything, Riggs came barreling through the open window, crunching broken glass under his feet, Smithson and Palmer behind him.

"Tell me you caught them!" Riggs bellowed loudly. "Because if you haven't, I think there are going to be heads rolling soon, and I'm afraid mine is going to be one of them!"

"I guess this means that peacock is gone?" Hutch asked dryly.

"Damn straight," Smithson muttered as he climbed in the front display behind Palmer. "Door was locked tight, but he got in through the roof somehow. We found a ceiling tile out of place."

Riggs, looking tired and defeated, followed Starsky's nod toward the back room. As Riggs stomped off to have a look for himself, Hutch noticed that Starsky looked pre-occupied.

Walking toward him, his back to Smithson and Palmer, Hutch lowered his voice to a whisper. 

"What's nagging at you?"

Starsky looked at him, and Hutch could almost see the gears turning.

"Did you notice anyone carrying large items outside?"

Hutch thought for a moment. There had been a lot of people moving outside, ladies with purses, people with shopping bags. The weather was too hot for heavy coats.

"Something really large? No, can't say that I did."

"Well, in case of an evacuation, wouldn't you be sort of... discouraged from taking boxes or large items with you? Don't they ask you to leave suitcases and stuff and just leave as you are?"

"Yeah," Hutch agreed, starting to see what Starsky was getting at. "They don't want people blocking the aisles or slowing the rest of the people down with bulky objects."

Starsky moved over to the cash register, turning the postcard holder around until he came to one he seemed interested in. Pulling it out, he glanced at it and handed it to Hutch.

The postcard contained a professional photograph of the Golden Peacock. This one was much better than the newspaper or the brochure copy.

"Look at it," Starsky said pointing to the tail feathers. "That's gold, and those feathers are made from a lot of thin, delicate threads. That's not somethin' you want to squash in a bag or throw in a box that's going to get crushed in a crowd."

"He'd be careful to protect it," Hutch agreed. "And a properly cushioned box would be big with all the padding it would need." Hutch flipped over the card, scanning the legend on the back. "See? Eighteen by twenty by ten inches."

"That would be a big box, which an employee or customer might remember seeing leave this store. Might even be caught on video during one of their hallway sweeps," Starsky said, eyebrows rising to his hairline. He looked at Hutch expectantly.

"So maybe...."

"So maybe he hasn't taken it outside."

"Yet." Hutch looked around the room suddenly. No boxes, but in the back....

"C'mere guys," Starsky waved for Smithson and Palmer to join them. "We've got some more searching to do."

Starsky explained to the other two cops that they would be looking for some sort of box or container that was larger than eighteen by twenty. There were cartons of unopened merchandise stuffed everywhere in the storage room. Two large shelving units took over the center floor while wall shelves on all four walls were filled to the ceiling with boxes of every shape and size, not to mention the boxes stacked in the corners.

"Well, gentlemen," Hutch announced loudly. "Pick a wall and let's see what we can find."

Hutch started on the wall to his right and pulled a box out, ripping its seemingly pristine seal of packing tape as he opened it. Inside were bags of stuffed animals.

Several boxes later, skipping those that were obviously too small, Hutch heard an exclamation from Starsky.

"Hutch! C'mere!"

All three men came over to see what he had found.

Starsky pointed to a row of opened toys and boxes. "These all have name tags with room numbers on them. Looks like customers paid for them then asked that they be held or shipped or somethin'. See that one there?"

Hutch looked where he was directed and saw a dollhouse box. Starsky grabbed him by a shirt sleeve, pulling him back to the door, pointing to a large trash bin. "Lookit."

Inside were bits and pieces of what looked like a broken dollhouse.

"Oh, my heavens," Smithson groaned. "And here I thought for sure you two had bought the funny farm."

"See?" Palmer said triumphantly, walking back to the wall with the stored items, hands on hips. "I _told_ you they'd be able to give The Baron a run for his money."

"Wait now," Hutch interjected. "We may be all wrong here."

"Only one way to find out," Starsky said, glancing at the door as Riggs appeared, looking sick and depressed. "Oh, there you are," Starsky called to him. "Your friends here got somethin' to show you."

Riggs looked unconvinced. "I hope you're telling me you found a clue big enough to save my ass."

"Gentlemen, you were telling us your theory?" Starsky said loudly toward the two Reno detectives.

Hutch watched them as they looked at Starsky with disbelief, then glanced at each other, and back to Starsky again.

"Go on, show the nice man what you think you found," Hutch said waving toward the box on the shelf.

Smithson seemed to recover first, moving toward the back shelf while Palmer looked at them like they'd lost their minds.

"Come on," Smithson said as he grabbed Palmer's sleeve to drag him over. "Let's get this over with."

Hutch glanced at Riggs, who was taking turns looking at all four of them as if they were all a bit crazy. He perked up when Smithson and Palmer began to move the box, it being obvious that they were handling it carefully. Hutch could tell it was heavier than it should be."

Smithson cut the lid open with a knife, and, as they all moved closer, Hutch could tell it wasn't the original tape. He also noted that Smithson took care not to touch the tag that had been taped to the side. If The Baron had addressed it to himself, to be picked up later, there may still be prints on it.

When the top flaps were pulled open, they could see a styrofoam container that was split down the middle. Carefully turning it on its side, Palmer slid the packing out of the box.

Everyone held their breath as the packing was opened. Shiny in the florescent light of the dark room, a large, golden peacock looked back up at them from its cushioned nest.

"Well, I'll be damned and proud of it," Riggs explained, looking at the Golden Peacock in shock. "I believe my ass is well and truly out of the fire, gentlemen, and I owe someone my firstborn."

Hutch smiled at Riggs, who looked almost dazed by the turn of events.

"And you can thank these two cops. Without them The Baron would have come by in a day or two, asked for his purchase from the storeroom, and walked right out with his prize," Starsky said happily.

"You bet I'll thank them. Just as soon as I get this back where it belongs, in the proper vault this time."

Going to the door, he called for some of his people who had been examining the break-in site in the bathroom. "I assume, Officers, you won't care if we take this down to the safe?"

Smithson and Palmer, who had been looking at the peacock with slack jaws, suddenly seemed to wake up.

"Oh, uh, actually, we'll need to call our captain and report this," Smithson said. "This is all evidence and we don't want to disturb any more prints than we have to."

"Don't worry, Bob," Palmer interjected. "You can leave one of your men here to watch the process, but you know this is more than you in-house boys can legally handle, it being a real, live break-in and all. But you're gonna hafta call your men outta the john, too. And leave the safe room downstairs alone. We're gonna have the fingerprint team down here and cover the place with all that dust and stuff."

Riggs nodded. "Okay, Darrell, you got it. My boss is going to pitch a fit, but he's never liked working with cops anyway. This will just be the topper to one bitch of a day."

Riggs left the room, giving orders on his walkie-talkie as he did so.

As soon as he was out the door, Smithson walked up to them. 

"You guys really going to let us take the credit on this? This would be a huge feather in your cap, you know, besting The Baron twice and all."

Hutch looked at Starsky, seeing agreement there.

"Well, credit is nice," Hutch said casually.

"But what it really means is a shitload of paperwork. Which we're going to be doing enough of when we give our statements," Starsky continued, a mischievous smile taking over his face.

"We're still on vacation," Hutch reminded them both.

Starsky sighed as he looked at his watch. "And since we're going to be missing our flight, what we'd really like would be for your captain to call our captain in the morning."

"And explain why we're not at work," Hutch added.

Palmer smiled at them. "Well, by the stink of this mess, and the fact the Feds are going to want to chew asses because they're gonna look like fools, I'd say you probably won't be free to leave until...." he scowled down at the floor, scratching his head.

"Until at least Sunday afternoon," Smithson said, slapping his partner on the back. "You know how those Feds like you to answer a million questions. And since you're our guests, bet we can even sweet talk our captain into putting you two up at a better hotel."

"Could even find time to hang out a bit," Palmer agreed, smiling wildly and rocking happily on the balls of his feet.

"Well," Starsky said, mock defeat in his voice. "If we _have_ to. Guess it's part of our duty as Bay City detectives to be as cooperative as we can. Right, Hutch?"

"Right," Hutch agreed. "Brothers in arms, and all that."

It wasn't long before a mob of police teams arrived to join the fire department and the confused guests inside and outside the casino. The four of them had to move outside while the "professionals" went to work.

_Well, Baron_ , Hutch thought as he sat with Starsky against a wall in the hallway outside, waiting for their turn to be grilled, _you almost had us this time. But close only counts in horseshoes. That'll teach you to mess with the best! Maybe next time...._

For some reason, Hutch was sure there would be a next time.

_And heaven help me, but I'm looking forward to it. One of these days, Baron, my partner and I are going to bring you in._

_ _ _Bet the bank on it._

***

They didn't have to wait too long before Palmer strode over to them, a smile on his face and mischief in his eyes. Starsky could imagine how this day was going to look on his and Smithson's records. Not bad for a dead-end assignment. He and Smithson were definitely going to owe him and Hutch a big favor someday.

_Never hurts to make friends,_ Starsky thought as the other cop came over and squatted in front of them. _Especially when it doesn't cost you anything._

"So, how're things going in there?" Hutch asked leaning casually against the hallway wall.

"Well, to tell you the truth, it's kind of embarassin', gettin' your ass kissed this publicly and all. 'Course, when Captain Reighter gets here that'll stop pretty quick. Then he'll be holding his ass out for affection."

Starsky and Hutch both laughed, Starsky not even _wanting_ that image in his mind.

"Your captain likes to take the credit, does he?" Hutch asked.

"He lives for it," Palmer said with a smile. "But you guys didn't have to do that, leave us with the glory, you know."

"We know," Starsky said, shrugging. "We're fine. You guys run with it."

"That's all well and good, gentlemen, but I have a feeling The Baron is going to remember this a bit differently than the way the final police reports are going to tell it."

"I don't think The Baron is going to be a problem," Hutch said. "Worst I think we can expect from him is that we get invited to another game."

As they were talking, Starsky noticed two elderly men making their way down the hall as if they had no worries about being kicked out of the middle of a police investigation. One of them, a tall, portly man, was dressed in a turquoise suit that looked like it was from a casino's show. It was a bright color to start with, but the extra buttons and bits sewn on at the shoulders and sleeves reminded Starsky of the fancy cowboy outfit Hutch had worn undercover one time. And the matching design on the cowboy hat spoke of a lot of money. His companion was taller and dressed in a nice suit, but was frail looking. There was no mistaking Raymond Wyatt, owner of The Olympus, but he'd had some ill health since his photograph was taken for the newspaper article. 

Just as Starsky was going to ask about the two men, the larger man swaggered over to them.

"Well, now, are you three bein' paid to sit on your asses in this... emergency type of situation, or are you guests in this hotel?" The words were said around a fat cigar and seemed to be more teasing than accusing.

Palmer rose quickly, pulling out his badge to present it politely. "Just in the middle of getting some information, sir. Can I help you?"

Starsky and Hutch both stood, just in case they needed to show their badges again.

"Well, now, son, that all depends. I'm not up on my police procedures, but my friend here," he waved a chubby hand at his companion, "owns this place and would like a report. Would you happen to have someone in charge hanging around who could give him one?"

"Yes, sir, I think I can find someone who can give you the low down. Just a moment." Winking at Starsky and Hutch, Palmer made his way back into the mass of people who were still crawling over the toy store.

"And you two would be?"

_I might as well just pin this on,_ Starsky thought tiredly, pulling out his badge one more time. _I have a feeling I'm going to be showing it all evening._

"Detectives Hutchinson and Starsky, on vacation from Bay City," Hutch introduced them both. "We just happen to be in the area and are now waiting for a chance to give our statements."

"Well, since you are outsiders to the area, so to speak, I shall stoop to introducing myself." The brown eyes of the turquoise cowboy sparkled with amusement. "I am Harley Darnell Taylor, owner of Taylor's Mine, the best casino in the area." Throwing a smile at his companion he went on. "This here's my friend, Raymond Wyatt, the poor soul that tries to make a livin' outta this place. You wouldn't happen to know--"

"Is it gone?" Raymond Wyatt asked, a haunted look on the frail face. "The Golden Peacock, did he get it?"

"Oh, no, sir," Starsky said, giving the man a supportive smile. "It was found, safe and sound, before the thief could get it outside."

Whatever Starsky had been expecting, the look of utter devastation that flashed across Wyatt's face wasn't it. For a second Starsky had the feeling the man was about to pass out, then he grabbed at Taylor's arm and seemed to visibly collect himself.

"Y'all sure about that?" Taylor had moved to grab his friend's elbow, his eyes on the other man's face. "You wouldn't be spreadin' rumors now would you, boys?"

Starsky glanced at Hutch and could see that he was also confused. "No, sir. My partner and I saw it for ourselves just a few minutes ago."

"But it can't be!" Wyatt said softly, looking at Taylor as if in total disbelief. "He _said_ he could get it out without...!"

"Hush, now, don't let it worry you," Taylor interrupted quickly, but soothingly.

"But I _gave_ him enough money to...!"

"Raymond, snap outta it, boy!" Taylor's words now were harsh and Starsky could see Wyatt look as if a fog were starting to clear. Taylor lowered his voice. "Don't you worry about it none, you hear me? I'll take care 'a things, you just wait and see."

Starsky watched as the man plastered a smile on his face seconds before he turned to him. "You boys gotta excuse my friend here, he's not feelin' well and the shock of all this is playin' at his mind some."

"I'm not crazy," Wyatt muttered, pulling away from Taylor's grip to walk toward the toy store, moving carefully, but with purpose.

"Well...you boys get back to your waitin'. Thanks for the information."

Crossing his arms in thought, Starsky leaned against the wall, his eyes on the retreating pair.

"You catch that?" Hutch asked quietly, leaning in close.

"Sure did. Wyatt said he _paid_ to have someone steal the Golden Peacock."

"That's what I heard."

"And it sure looked like not having it disappear was a hard blow to take."

They were both quiet for a moment, watching the two men as they were met by Palmer, the security guard, and a few other people they didn't recognize. Starsky noticed that Wyatt didn't seem to be paying much attention to what was being said, and that Taylor continued to do the talking.

"You think it was for the insurance?" Starsky asked quietly, eyes still on the pair.

"I don't know, but if you ask me, if he's having financial problems, the insurance on that piece of art isn't going to make any dent in the cost of running this place. It was worth what? Half a million? Three quarters? I don't think that would pay the light bill for a month."

Starsky nodded. "Plus, you figure The Baron is going to get his cut out of it. Then add in all the money he was paying those hired thugs to make big noises about the bank heist. Not to mention all the gifts they're going to have to give to all their hotel guests who are spending a big chunk of their evening outside."

"That would definitely cut into any of the insurance proceeds."

"And Harley Taylor seems to be in on it, too."

"So, where does that leave us?" Hutch asked, eyes looking questioningly at Starsky.

_Where does that leave us? Do we leave it and spend the rest of our time sightseeing, or do we stick our noses further into this mystery?_

"I say we tip off Palmer and Smithson after all the paperwork gets done and see what they say." He smiled at Hutch. "Guess I'm too much of a busybody to let it go."

"Yeah, me, too."

With that, they decided to walk into the fray and see what they could come up with.

***

Leaning against the headboard of the hotel bed, Hutch balanced his pizza slice over the paper plate--mindful that he had on his last clean shirt and they were due a laundry trip the next day. He had to admit that the pizza hit the spot, and if the way Starsky, Smithson, and Palmer were going at the rest of the slices in the box was any indication of things, he was going to have to be quick on the draw to get a second slice.

"Okay," Starsky said, taking a sip of his beer, his paper plate of pizza balanced precariously in his other hand, "so Reighter is thrilled that you guys stopped the theft of the Golden Peacock, but is in the hot spot because he didn't pass on your report to his boss."

"That's right," Smithson said from his perch next to Palmer on the other bed. "He's balancing on that tight-wire, hoping that since the theft was averted, it will make up for the fact that no one else knew about it in enough time to actually catch The Baron."

"Which reminds me," Palmer chimed in, "how did your captain take the news that you two were going to be hanging around for a few more days?"

"Well, he took it a lot better since it was Reighter who called him at home with the news rather than Starsky or me."

"He had a few choice words for us, too," Starsky added. "But Reighter buttered him up enough that it wasn't as painful as it could have been."

"He's given us leave until Monday morning." Hutch raised his glass of beer. "Here's to happy captains!"

With a chorus of "Here, here!" they drank up.

Hutch was glad they had decided to go to their hotel room for dinner rather than go out. Between taking statements, giving statements, and repeating the process for the Feds, they hadn't been able to have a private word with Smithson and Palmer all evening.

"Say," Starsky said casually, "what can you guys tell us about those two casino owners, Wyatt and Taylor?"

The other two detectives ate silently for a moment, then Palmer took a swig of beer and shrugged. "I wasn't surprised to see them at the scene today, if that's what you're asking. Those two old coots didn't make their fortunes by keepin' their noses outta other people's business, so you can imagine what they're like when somethin' happens on their own property."

"If they're rivals, how come they were both there?" Hutch asked.

"Oh, those two are only rivals because they'd be bored to death if they didn't have each other to compete with," Smithson said, finishing up his beer. "Those two have been good friends since they came to Reno, decades ago. Both came to this area, and got into the casino business, when they were in their mid-twenties. Hit it off at the time."

"Yeah, those two are like magnets, they're so opposite they attract each other," Palmer laughed. "Word is that Taylor was one of those kids who started working when he was a kid, helpin' the family business to survive. His parents died early and left him their store, somewhere in the south. After having a couple of really good years, he sold it off and came here--started buying up land downtown to build his own saloon. Did well enough that he added gambling a few years later. Was good at it, and had a real good head for business, so things just snowballed from there."

"And Wyatt?" Starsky prompted.

"Oh, he's a horse of another color," Palmer added. "He was a rich kid, from a _really_ wealthy family. Had the best of educations and a huge allowance from his father. Started out to be a lawyer, but found himself hating it. So, the story goes, he came out here, decided to stay and managed to sink a lot of money into a hotel before his family found out about it. Good ol' Dad put his foot down and threatened to cut off the money if he didn't go back home."

"And hell if the old man cut the purse strings himself and stayed." Smithson shook his head. "He'd managed to invest enough of his money in the hotel, which added gambling later, that he just stayed here and decided to match wits with Taylor. Those two have been hanging out together for years, yet at the same time, they'll take any chance to get one over on the other one. Strange relationship."

"So it wasn't strange to see those two ol' birds out scratchin' around. Between the two of them they consider themselves the real leaders of all the casino business around here. One's not going to stick around while the other gets ripped off."

"That and the fact that Taylor used to own the Golden Peacock for quite a few years."

"Wait! Taylor was the one who won the peacock in that poker game?" Starsky sounded surprised.

"And the one who lost it back to Wyatt years later. Who else would they bet the bird against? They'd only bring that thing out for a stake if they were bettin' against each other. Wouldn't do for a stranger to get hold of it."

_Well, this explains why they both were there, but why would they pay The Baron to steal it?_ Hutch wondered.

He nudged Starsky with his toe, asking silently if this was the right time to bring up what they had heard from Wyatt and Taylor. 

Starsky nodded.

"Look we want to throw something by you guys and see if it flies. You interested?"

"Ha!" Palmer barked in laughter, giving Smithson a nudge. "They just got our asses kissed by Reighter and they want to know if we want more?" Palmer looked back over at Starsky, a grin on his face. "Well, hell no, son. We're complete idiots."

All four of them laughed good-naturedly. Starsky repeated what he and Hutch had seen in the hallway, and described the strange actions of Wyatt and Taylor.

The two Reno detectives continued to eat quietly, and Starsky could tell they were taking the information seriously. 

Palmer, finishing his meal, stood up and threw his plate and empty bottle in the trash can, wiping off his hands.

"I've heard rumors," Palmer said quietly, "that Wyatt isn't well. He sure looked off his feed. Maybe this has something to do with his illness."

"How ill?" Hutch asked.

"Don't know the particulars, but I don't think it's something that tends to get better." Palmer shrugged sadly.

"That would explain why Taylor was doing all the talking last night," Smithson added. "Taylor was acting like a mother bear defending her cub when it came to finding out what had gone on. They usually spend all their time carping at each other, not protecting each other from the world. But if Wyatt's not well...."

"But doesn't he have a son the business is going to?" Starsky asked. "If he's retiring and leaving the business to his son, why wasn't his son there to take care of things?"

Smithson made a rude noise as he got up to clean up his leftovers. "All that kid is good at is spending the family money, it seems."

"Sure enough, Aaron Wyatt has a colorful past." Palmer said. "Kid's got a juvenile record, and I can't tell you how many times ol' Wyatt bailed that kid out after he grew up. It'll give you a clue when I tell you the son is in his mid-thirties, but he's always been known as 'The Kid'."

"Is he around now?" Starsky asked. "You think he could be involved in all this?"

Both men seemed to think it over. 

Palmer shrugged. "You got me. Anything's possible at this point. I don't have a clue where Wyatt's kid is."

"Neither do I," Smithson said. "But I've got to call it a night, guys. Sorry to have to duck out on you again."

"Oh, no problem," Hutch said, getting up as the other two started to rise. "Thanks for coming."

"Tell you guys what. You let us know where you end up tomorrow, hotel-wise, and we'll see if we can keep our ears to the ground. If things aren't kosher with Wyatt and Taylor, you know something will happen again. And thanks for the pizza."

"You got it," Starsky said as they walked the two to the door. "We've got your number."

Starsky shut the door firmly behind them as Hutch gathered the rest of the trash. He waited to say anything until Starsky turned around. He could see his partner was deep in thought.

"I can't figure out why the son would steal the Golden Peacock if he's actually going to get control of the whole business," Starsky said after a minute. "If the old man is ill, and leaving him the business, then wouldn't the peacock come with the deal?

"I don't know, Starsk," Hutch admitted. "I think we're missing a big piece of the puzzle. And who knows? Maybe what we heard has nothing to do with the peacock at all."

"That's true. But still, I got this feelin'...."

"And would that feeling have anything to do with... " Hutch asked, walking close to Starsky, making sure to stand in his space. "...you, me and the fact that we're still on vacation, in a room that's paid up for the night?"

"Oh, babe," Starsky said, a smile growing on his face. "How you _do_ read my mind."

Reaching up, stepping closer, Starsky cupped Hutch's face in his hand. Deep blue eyes looked into his, and Hutch saw a variety of emotions in them, amusement, happiness, and love among them.

_I'd die for those eyes._

Hutch leaned in, hands on Starsky's waist, willing Starsky to kiss him.

As his face was pulled forward, his eyes closed, and Hutch first felt a light touch of lips on the tip of his nose, then his forehead as thumbs caressed his cheeks.

Hutch pulled him in closer, feeling the strong, hard body against him, needing the kiss.

When it came, it was soft and tentative, as if it were new to them.

"Guess it will always surprise me a little," Starsky breathed. Hutch opened his eyes and saw the softness of love on Starsky's face. "That we really have each other. Sometimes it feels like such a dream, when we're at work and we're acting and talking just like we used to."

"We've not really changed," Hutch said softly, placing a gentle kiss on Starsky's lips. "Not where it counts. We just show it differently."

"You think?" Starsky's voice held amusement, but the next kiss was more serious than the last.

Their lips caressed and tasted each other, Hutch discovering the faint flavor of pizza, beer, and that flavor that could only be Starsky himself.

Hutch opened his lips and Starsky joined him, as they tasted and touched each other more intimately, tongues dancing and probing. 

Breathless, they broke apart, Hutch leaning his forehead against Starsky's. "I want you, tonight," he whispered, feeling flushed and heady. "Want you inside and all around me."

Face dark, lids hooded and eyes heavy with lust, Starsky kissed him again, pulling him even closer than they were before.

Hands roaming Starsky's sides and back, Hutch could feel the hardness of Starsky's cock through his clothing, feel the tenseness of his muscles as they kissed.

Hutch pushed beneath the end of Starsky's shirt to the warm, soft skin underneath--feeling the soft curves, hard bone, and rounded muscle in a random pattern of discovery. He drank in the taste of his lover, the feel of him, solid and hot in his arms. He marveled at how the manly shapes, taste, and scent of Starsky--such a masculine figure--could call out the male in Hutch himself. Holding Starsky, feeling their similarities and their differences, always seemed to inflame something inside him, making Hutch hungry to meet and match his lover's intensity.

Sometimes, like now, he wanted to be covered by it, to be swallowed whole by Starsky and become a part of _him_. To be loved, cherished, protected and a part of something bigger than just himself.

Waves of heat flowed through him, coming from the delightful burning in his groin and chest--and Starsky feeling even hotter against his skin.

Hutch pulled at clothing, their mouths devouring each other, then pulling apart only to meet again noisily, almost bruisingly.

Starsky's hands were all over him now, tugging at his clothing, opening his shirt and pushing it over his shoulders.

"On the bed," Starsky said as his mouth left Hutch's. He sounded strained, eager, his eyes roaming Hutch as if he could devour him. "Let me undress you."

Reluctant to let go of him, Hutch stepped back, watching Starsky as he undid the last buttons on his shirt and pulled it off. He stood still as Starsky ran light fingertips down both sides of his neck, then traced his collar bones, the finger of one hand tracing the fading scars Hutch carried from a shooting years ago. Then the fingertips became palms and splayed fingers, the touch firmer and bolder. Hutch closed his eyes, the vision of Starsky's lusty, engrossed expression burned into his mind. He relaxed, leaning into the touch that was both exploration and massage.

Starsky's hands reached his pants. Hutch knew they were bulging with his straining erection. He sighed when his pants were opened and he was given more freedom. His cock and balls were heavy between his legs, begging for attention and eager for Starsky's touch. Hutch stepped out of his pants as Starsky pushed them to the ground.

Hutch reached out and sank his fingers into the riot of curls on the lowered head, loving the feel and the textures, so different from his own. He tugged the curls gently, wanting Starsky's mouth and his turn at disrobing him. As Starsky came up he licked Hutch's now completely hard cock, making Hutch hiss in appreciation of the sensation.

Hutch took Starsky's mouth again once he rose, pushing himself against Starsky's erection, feeling delightfully free and erotic with his nudity against Starsky's fully clothed body. Pulling away again, he knew he was leering as he undid Starsky's shirt, pulling it over his head. Squatting, he looked up and met Starsky's eyes just before he growled loudly and dug his nose into Starsky's crotch, accosting the taut fabric and making him gasp and laugh at the same time.

Undoing the zipper and button, he pulled the pants down slowly, watching as Starsky's rose-colored cock jumped to attention in front of him. Ignoring it for a moment, he nuzzled in closer to Starsky's balls, nosing in through the musky, thick hair to the soft sac underneath.

Hands on Starsky's hips, Hutch could feel the heat flow from Starsky's body, the clench of muscles in his thighs and buttocks. Tongue and lips touching velvety, rippled skin, Hutch found a testicle and sucked it in, wetly rolling it in his mouth as Starsky gasped loudly. Hutch felt the fingers in his hair grip tightly and the gasp turn into a low moan. Hutch turned to the other testicle, giving it the same treatment.

After a few minutes Starsky pushed gently on his forehead, letting him know it was time for something else.

"Lie down with me, Hutch." The plea was whispered, earnest and excited. "I wanna make you feel _good_."

As Hutch rose, Starsky kissed him then moved to the bed to pull off the top sheets. Starsky motioned for him to lie on his back, and Hutch did so. He watched curiously as Starsky walked into the bathroom area, and returned with the small ice bucket that came with the room. Placing it within easy reach on the nightstand, he smiled at Hutch, who shivered at the thought of what Starsky might have planned for him.

Straddling him, Starsky ignored his cock, casting a lecherous eye across Hutch's supine body. 

"I've caught you, and you're now in my power," Starsky's voice was deep and sultry. He moved Hutch's right arm above his head, turned Hutch's palm so he could grip the sheet, repeating it with the other arm. "I have you tied up, helpless. I can do anything I want with you. I am going to keep you in my power forever."

_Yes!_ Hutch thought, delightful chills running up his spine at the look in Starsky's eyes and the sound of his voice. _That's what I want!_

He didn't say the words, not knowing if Starsky wanted him to talk or not.

Starsky watched him a moment, nothing moving but his eyes, the strong body towering above Hutch. Then Starsky leaned forward, his cock rubbing against Hutch's stomach and body hair caressing him in a thousand places. He gently took a bit of skin at the crook of Hutch's neck between his teeth.

Hutch froze, feeling the sharp edge of teeth on skin, his neck tingling at the site. Then Starsky licked it, humming under his breath. The act was repeated on the other side, making Hutch's breathing grow rapid as he gripped the sheets harder.

Grinning, Starsky reached over to the ice bucket, taking off the lid and fishing out a piece of ice. Starsky put it in his mouth, reaching down to rub cold fingers over the center of Hutch's chest.

Hutch shivered and watched Starsky intently as he sucked on the ice cube. Starsky smiled then bent over, and with his hands on Hutch's shoulders, he touched the tip of his cold tongue to the hollow of Hutch's throat.

Hutch gasped at the sensation, the cold creating chills that warred for attention on nerves that were already excited by the touch of Starsky's body.

The mouth on Hutch kept moving, following a cold trail down the center of his chest, to lap at his breastbone, and trail lazily from under one pectoral muscle to the other.

Hutch kept hold of the sheets, panting, trying to control his reactions to the attention Starsky was giving him. He wanted to move, to squirm under the icy tongue, his body enjoying it, yet seeking to escape it at the same time. 

When Starsky moved to suck a nipple into the cool mouth, Hutch bucked and moaned, causing Starsky to push harder on his shoulders. The nipple burned like fire, sending signals down to Hutch's cock and balls making them throb. Leaving the nipple, Starsky rubbed it soothingly as he sucked in the other one.

Hutch couldn't help but try to move, to squirm out from under the frosty torture. Starsky quickly backed off to the center of Hutch's chest, where his heart was thudding from his body's reactions.

Starsky moved down Hutch's abdomen, leaving a cold, wet trail on Hutch's skin. As he got down to the limit of his reach, Starsky sat up, winking at him as he chewed the last of the ice in his mouth.

Hutch watched, eyes wide, as Starsky reached for another ice cube, then moved farther down the bed, pulling Hutch's legs apart.

As Starsky lowered his head toward Hutch's genitals Hutch closed his eyes, giving total concentration to what his body was telling him.

He felt Starsky's breath on his cock before the delicate, arctic touch at the base. Hutch found himself panting, his cock growing harder as he warred between the heat of his lust and the cold of the caress. His cock felt impossibly hard now, and as the cold mouth worked its way up, Hutch tensed even more.

"Starsk!" Hutch yelled and bucked as the cold mouth enveloped him, the sensation shocking him, yet feeling good at the same time.

Starsky was up in an instant, mouth-to-mouth, sharing the last of the melting ice, Starsky's body pushing him back down. The heat of the body on top of him erased the lingering traces of coolness, the cock rubbing against his making his own cock relax and expand once again.

"You're branded now," Starsky said after pulling away and leaving the last trace of ice in Hutch's mouth. His smile was sultry, his eyes deadly. "You're almost all mine."

"Almost?" Hutch squeaked out, finding himself eager to finish what Starsky had started.

Starsky's eyes bored into him, held him, before he moved to whisper in Hutch's ear. 

"Show me how you want me. Show me how to please you so that you'll be mine, so that only I can give you what you want."

Starsky moved off of him, on his knees at the end of the bed. Waiting on Hutch's will.

He was beautiful, the dark hair framing the face of a sometimes devil, sometimes imp, with blue eyes of a color that seemed almost impossible to be true. The dusting of dark hair accentuating thick thighs, strong muscles and generous genitals. He was what Hutch needed. Without him, Hutch felt cold and alone.

Cold and alone. How he hated that feeling.

"Need you always," Hutch whispered, reaching up to splay his fingers on Starsky's chest. "I need you inside me, taking me, covering me and keeping me safe. I want to see you."

Moving his hand, Hutch reached for the lube that was on the nightstand, wrapping it in Starsky's fingers.

Reaching around, Hutch moved a pillow farther down on the bed. Pulling Starsky with him. A pillow now under his hips, Hutch kissed Starsky as they fell, spreading his legs to wrap them around Starsky and keep him close.

The kiss lasted until they were both breathless. Starsky pulled away and opened the lube, spreading it generously on his cock, eyes dark and face flushed as he watched Hutch who was spreading himself wider, moving the pillow so he would be as exposed as possible.

As a lubed finger entered him Starsky bent to nip and lick at a buttock. Hutch groaned as the finger searched deep within him, Starsky biting this time, just hard enough to leave a real mark.

As two fingers moved within him, opening him up, Hutch sighed; eyes closed as he blanked his mind of all but the sensations that were working their way through him. As Starsky hit his prostate, sparks flew through his gut. He moaned, pulling his legs wider apart.

Then there were three fingers inside him, pulling and stretching. They were soon gone, and Hutch looked up to see Starsky moved into place, one hand at the base of his large cock, the other bracing him against the bed. Hutch felt lost without the fingers, needed the emptiness filled.

"Do it, Starsk! I need to feel you, now!"

Starsky pushed and Hutch gasped, as the head of his cock stretched him then slipped inside. And as he took a breath, tried to relax, he found himself impatient for the rest.

"More...give me the rest!"

The slide of Starsky's cock head opened the rest of him, filling him smoothly, carefully. Starsky watched his face for any sign of pain. He stopped as Hutch felt the curly hairs and weight of Starsky's sac rest flush against his ass.

It was a tight fit, his insides suddenly anxious at the girth and breadth of the intruder. Muscles twitched nervously and Hutch fought the first instinct to force it out. Breathing deeply, he relaxed, moaning as strong fingers, still slick from their probing, pulled at his cock, forcing his attention back to that tight and throbbing organ.

He felt himself relax, tissues going pliable and the tense feeling turning into a pleasurable fullness. Then slowly, building up speed, Starsky started thrusting, timing them to match the strokes on Hutch's cock. 

It filled his mind, the touches and movements that alternately filled him and retreated. Hutch floated on the sensations, feeling the exquisite tension that flowed from his cock and balls as Starsky played him like an instrument, knowing just how to touch him, just when to fill him and make his body sing.

It went on forever and he never wanted it to end, but his cock had other ideas. At some unknown signal, Starsky changed his angle, quickened his pace, rubbing his prostate and sending flares through him, the fingers on his cock grew firmer, more insistent.

It was wonderful, and it sent him spinning. Opening his eyes, he watched as Starsky worked on him, his eyes dark and his face flushed, and as their eyes met Starsky smiled a predatory smile.

"Show me your love, Hutch," the thick, ragged voice ordered him, pumping his cock faster and thrusting harder. "Give it to me...show it to me...."

Hutch was crazy with it, sensations pulling him in multiple directions, all of them dragging and pushing muscles and nerves that throbbed and screamed for their goal. He could feel the final pressures build up inside, push at him for release as his cock throbbed and expanded. In one delicious thrust, one slide of tight fingers over the length of his cock, the sensations collided and exploded, making his head ring and the room spin as his body took control and spasmed its completion.

As wonderful waves of pleasure flooded through him, Hutch could feel Starsky milking him--matching the pushing and throbbing sensation that forced his cum from him. He was talking to Starsky, begging him to come as well, to fill him with his seed, to mark him as his--inside and out.

Through the wild pounding of his own heart and the slowing of the waves of pleasure, Hutch heard Starsky gasp, releasing his cock. Opening lazy eyes, Hutch watched and felt as Starsky pounded into him, his face a grimace of determination and need, the slap of their bodies echoed in the friction and pressure Hutch felt from within. It was good to be needed this badly, to know that he could provide his lover with the place and the opportunity for love and lust.

As Starsky grew more frantic, the tension of climax straining his features and coloring his skin with a deep flush and a sheen of perspiration, Hutch found himself memorizing the look, drinking it in, owning it as his prize.

Suddenly Starsky froze, buried in Hutch up to the hilt, the tension in the beloved features flowed out, leaving utter peace and pleasure on Starsky's face as his body tensed and relaxed with the flow of his climax. Eyes closed, Starsky moaned, long and ragged, as he came deeply within Hutch.

_He's so beautiful, so gorgeous_ , Hutch thought, sighing as he felt the pulse of Starsky's climax within him, the slow rocking as Starsky rode him with the pulse of his pleasure. _I will never see him like this enough. This Starsky is mine, his beauty is mine. Who could not want him? Who could not need him?_

When he finally opened his eyes, Starsky looked like he was floating on the same cloud he was, both of them at that same, quiet and peaceful place where there was only their love and pleasure. They looked into each other's eyes for a moment before both moved to come together for a kiss that was sweet and tender, breathing satisfied sighs into each other's mouths.

Starsky then pulled out carefully, and before he could do more than fall to the side Hutch was up, moving carefully to the bathroom. He cleaned himself up, then brought a warm cloth to wash Starsky, throwing it into the bathroom and turning off the lamp. Before using the last of his strength to collapse next to Starsky, he found the discarded sheets and pulled them up around them both.

Starsky, wrapping himself around Hutch, and nestling under the sheet to pillow is head on Hutch's shoulder, kissed Hutch's neck gently.

"G'night, love."

"Sweet dreams, baby," Hutch replied around a yawn, the beauty of Starsky's completion still in his mind--and his heart--as he drifted off.

***

Saturday morning arrived bright and early, which was too much of both for Starsky's tastes. He reached over to turn off the hotel room's annoying alarm, wiping at his eyes to try to focus on the dials. It was six o'clock already. Starsky felt like ignoring the sunlight and alarm and pretending it was midnight once again

_Man, time flies when you need sleep. But if we're going to be on time...._

They had to be at the police department at eight. Since check-out was at noon, and they weren't sure where they'd be by then, they had decided to check out before they left, pack their bags in the car and wait and see where they ended up for the evening. Reighter had made noises about getting them a room for Saturday night in exchange for having them stay over to give statements, but there was no surety of that happening. They had to do some laundry as well.

_Geez, this isn't much better than being at home._

As the bed shifted, a long arm came over his ribs and pulled him backward into a solid, warm body. 

"G'dm'nin'" came the sleep slurred voice from just behind his ear, the scratch of an unshaved chin at the crook of his neck.

_Ah, well, it has all the amenities. Can't complain about that._

Taking the long-fingered hand from his chest, he kissed the palm. "Time to get up, Hutch. We've got a full day to get started."

Hutch took a nip of his shoulder, making Starsky start, then turn and push the head away with a laugh. "Hey! You're the morning person, remember? No biting before lunch!"

"Sure, _now_ you tell me the rules," Hutch groused. He stretched, his long limbs threatening to take over the bed. "You shower  first and I'll lay here and recover from last night."

Starsky sat up, stretching his arms and back, a yawn almost threatening to pop his jaw. Climbing out of the bed, he headed for the shower.

"You don't want to join me?"

Hutch opened one eye and snorted. "No way. I know what kind of evilness you have in mind." He waved one hand lazily toward the shower. "After last night I don't know if I can even walk, yet there you go, getting lecherous again. You should be ashamed of yourself."

"You're no fun," Starsky griped as he headed for the shower. "After all, I did all the work!"

***

It was almost one in the afternoon before they could once again call their time their own. They had breakfast, checked out of the hotel, gave their statements to a couple of unhappy Federal Agents, called Dobey to check in, and even stopped by a laundromat.

They even found that Reighter had kept his word, and they had reservations at a hotel at the other end of the strip. It wasn't much better than the hotel they had just left, and they had been given separate rooms, but the Reno PD had also thrown in plane tickets home for Sunday night. Starsky figured he wasn't going to look a gift horse in the mouth. At least, he told himself he wasn't.

He must have let some of his disappointment show on his face, because as he was unpacking in _his_ room, Hutch came up behind him, wrapping those long arms around Starsky's waist.

"You've been awful quiet today," Hutch said softly, giving him a squeeze. "You feeling okay?"

"Sure," Starsky said, realizing Hutch was right and he wasn't quite up to par. "Guess I'm just a bit disappointed that we couldn't've spent our time in nicer places than this. I liked it better with us sharing a room."

"Any place with you in it, lover, is fine by me. We don't have to use both rooms, you know. And I know this isn't the vacation you planned on, but when it comes to following our gut feelings," one hand patted Starsky's stomach, "we've got to go with it. I don't see us changing that any time soon."

Starsky smiled, feeling a bit better. Sometimes he wished he could win a lottery ticket so he could treat Hutch the way he wanted to treat him. And he had to admit this vacation wasn't exactly what he had planned on when he wanted to get him and Hutch away from police work.

"Okay, enough pep talk," Starsky announced, giving the encircling arms a pat. "If we're going to do this, let's get it done." He moved toward the bed and sat down. "The Baron tries to steal the Golden Peacock, but doesn't get out the front door with it."

"Its owner acts upset because it _wasn't_ stolen," Hutch added. "He's not well, is retiring, and is leaving the business to his son."

"So, if it was something The Baron was after, for his own collection or to sell, is he going to give up so easily?"

"I don't know," Hutch admitted. "But I'd sure like to find out. I've got that--"

"Gut feeling." Starsky nodded, smiling dangerously. "Okay, Hutch, if we're involved in this, let's do it right."

"Where to first?"

"Might as well go to the horse's mouth, don't you think? Why don't we see if we can track down Raymond Wyatt and see if he's got a secret to hide?"

"Time to play poker?" Hutch asked smiling wickedly.

"Time to bluff, that's for sure," Starsky said, a huge smile taking over his face. "Let's go."

***

The Olympus was back in business, and from what Hutch could tell, nothing looked as if it had suffered from the night before. The gaming tables were full of visitors, and the desk that handled the hotel registrations was busy with people checking in and out. Even the window to the toy store had been replaced, although the store was closed. Hutch noticed the lack of a "police line" across the door.

_I guess if you have money you can take care of all those little, intrusive and ugly police warnings,_ Hutch thought. _After all, it might slow down business if the patrons thought an actual crime had almost been committed here._

It had not escaped him and Starsky that the report of the incident in the paper had played down the event to a "smoking burner" in the kitchen that gave off enough smoke to clog up the air-conditioning system, thereby causing the smoke and confusion of the night before. They had read the paper over lunch, amazed at how such a work of fiction could be accomplished in Reno, where it would have been almost impossible in Bay City. Hutch wondered if the newspapers played along for their own purposes, or for those of the PD or the casino owner.

_So far it looks like the casinos had more governmental and private pull than I thought they did_.

It took them a while to find the main office, and, as Hutch should have guessed, it was upstairs on the highest floor of the hotel. As they arrived at the top floor, they discovered a large room with a receptionist, who announced her welcome and told them that she would be glad to help them. That is, until they said that they wanted to talk to Raymond Wyatt. Then the receptionist smiled politely, called on her phone and reported their arrival, then, nicely, refused to say anything more beyond asking them to have a seat.

A moment later, a well-dressed, middle-aged woman with graceful bearing came through a large, impressive door to the right of the receptionist. They conferred for a moment, and then the new arrival turned and came toward them.

"Gentlemen, I am Mrs. Margaret Wrenworth--Mr. Wyatt's private secretary. I'm told you wish to speak to him?"

"Yes, ma'am, we do," Hutch replied, using his best business smile. "We're police officers and we would like to go over a few details of last night's incident with him."

Her eyes narrowing behind her fashionable eyeglasses, she looked them over, visually inspecting the best of their vacation wear.

"May I see your badges, please?"

Hutch tried not to wince as he reached for his badge. They had both hoped that she wouldn't ask for them, it being clear from their ID that they weren't in their own jurisdiction.

"Actually, ma'am, we're from Bay City," Starsky admitted quickly as he passed his ID over. "We're not actually here on official business, but on a personal matter."

"And that would be?" Mrs. Wrenworth pursed her lips as she looked over both badges.

"Well, uh...it's really a private matter, if you don't mind," Hutch said with a smile as he took back his badge.

"If he were expecting you he would have told me," she said sharply. "I don't think--"

"This is _very_ important," Starsky insisted. "Could you at least let him know we're here? Just tell him...." Starsky looked at Hutch for help.

"Tell him that we're the two officers he and Mr. Taylor met in the hallway, right after the robbery attempt. Tell him we are here to ask him about the _very_ interesting comments he made about the Golden Peacock and the money he recently spent on its pending relocation."

Mrs. Wrenworth studied them both for a moment, then nodded. "Very well, I will inform him of your arrival."

As soon as she turned around to leave, Hutch looked at Starsky, Starsky looked at Hutch, and both gave a small sigh.

They wandered around the reception room, neither one taking the opportunity to sit in the expensive leather chairs or flip through the business magazines that littered the tables next to them. Instead, Hutch went to look at the artwork on the walls, which was all original, though not done by anyone he recognized. Starsky strolled over to the wall that was mostly window, taking in the view. Hutch joined him after a moment.

He had to admit that the view of the forest-covered mountains on this side of the valley was breathtaking. It reminded him of all the ski resorts in and around Tahoe that he and Starsky had visited with various girlfriends over the years. There were still plenty of resorts they had yet to explore up in those beautiful mountains.

_Something to look forward to this next winter._

"Gentlemen," Mrs. Wrenworth said as she came through the doors again. "Please come to my office."

As they followed her down the hallway, Hutch wondered why they weren't going to be taken right to Wyatt.

"Since you are not from this area," Mrs. Wrenworth began, as she seated herself behind a large, well-ordered desk, "I will assume that you do not know that Mr. Wyatt, Mr. _Raymond_ Wyatt, is very ill and is retired. He very rarely comes into the casino anymore, no longer having any business duties to attend to."

She began to write on a piece of paper. "Because you have insisted that this is important, I have taken the liberty of calling him at home and telling him of your wish to speak with him. He has agreed to see you. This is his address."

Starsky took the paper, nodding his head politely and gracing her with one of his mega-watt smiles. "Thank, you, ma'am. We do appreciate it."

"May I say something, privately?" Mrs. Wrenworth asked softly. "Please?"

"Sure," Hutch assured her. "Unless this is something you think the local police need to know."

"No, nothing like that, it's just...well...Mr. Wyatt has been my employer for many years, and he is not well. His son--and this illness--have forced him out of everything he has ever worked for, everything that kept him going these last few years. I'd appreciate it if you would keep that in mind when you see him. It's a very hurtful subject for him to talk about."

"Thank you for telling us this, but may I ask a question?" Hutch asked.

"Certainly, though I may not be able to answer it."

"You said that Mr. Wyatt is retired and was forced out. Does that mean that he's not the owner of The Olympus anymore?"

Hutch could see anger grow in the secretary's eyes, but didn't believe it was toward him and Starsky.

"Raymond Wyatt still owns the majority of stock in the company. But because of his health, his son, Aaron Wyatt, has won power of attorney over his father's affairs from the court. He has become the new head of the Board of Directors and has forced his father out of the business and called it 'retirement.' This is all public knowledge."

"Thank you," Hutch said. "We'll be as tactful as we can, we would just like to ask a few questions."

"I would appreciate that very much."

With a nod of thanks they took their leave.

***

The drive to Raymond Wyatt's house took them up a scenic road that wound up the forest-covered mountainside. There, high above the city, was a two-level, all wood house with huge windows at the front. It looked like a ski lodge, just not quite as big.

"What a view he must have of the city!" Starsky said in admiration, as he pulled up into the circular driveway. "You can see the whole valley from here. Bet it looks like Christmas every night."

"Maybe," Hutch said distractedly, looking carefully around the area. "But I'd rather see Lake Tahoe than a city full of people. You notice any security?"

"Nope. Guess he figures he doesn't need anything but home alarms out here. He should be expecting us anyway. And it looks like he has company."

There were three cars already in the driveway.

They parked their car and headed up the wooden steps. Hutch pushed the doorbell as Starsky tried to see inside through the windows bordering the doorway. He nodded to Hutch when he saw movement.

A tall, brown-haired man in a light blue summer suit opened the door. "Hello, gentlemen. May I see your badges?"

After checking them quickly, the man handed them back and smiled. "Come this way, please."

Following the man in, Starsky was impressed with what looked to be professional, handcrafted woodwork throughout the various rooms they passed. There was one large room at the front that had two levels with huge windows that took up the entire fourth wall. The furnishings, which Starsky presumed were expensive, were comfortable looking, as if the whole house were a spot where you could go for quiet and relaxation.

_Or to die,_ Starsky mused sadly. _I guess if you can pass on in a place you're comfortable in, then all you need is your family around you. Worse ways to go, that's for sure._

The man led them to a back hallway and to a large room at the back. 

The man said something to someone in the room, an answer was given, and the man waved them inside.

"Well, to what do we owe the pleasure of this visit?" Harley Taylor asked loudly. "Welcome boys, and Joe?"

"Yes, sir?"

"You can go on home now."

Their guide looked into the room, then seemed to get some confirmation because he nodded. "I'll be back the same time tomorrow. See you two tomorrow!"

Joe turned and left, nodding to the two guests with a smile.

The first thing Starsky saw was Harley Taylor, who was standing at a fireplace, a drink in his hand. As Starsky entered the doorway, he realized that this was a large library. Every part of the building in this room was done in wood, the warm colors of the timber and boards meshing with the rows and rows of books on the walls. It would have been a warm and cozy room except for the strange looking addition of a hospital bed and nightstand on the other side of the room. 

But it was actually the man in the hospital bed who looked out of place. Raymond Wyatt, in pajamas, a robe and slippers reclined on the bed, which had been propped up to a sitting position.

"Welcome, gentlemen!" He said, a glass of liquor in his hand that matched Taylor's. "I have been looking forward to this meeting ever since my secretary called. I must say your calling me was unexpected, but I believe that your visit will work out well. Things always seem to happen for a reason."

"Don't listen to the old coot," Taylor said, looking unhappy as he gazed into his drink, swirling it as if he had no real interest in it. "He's farther off his rocker than usual. Always been damn crazy."

"And you've always been along for the ride, Harley. Don't deny it, there have been too many witnesses over the years. Besides, who's the bigger fool, the fool--"

"Or the fool who follows him." Taylor laughed suddenly, affection filling his face as he looked at his friend. "Okay, you can play your game for a while. Would you gentlemen like a drink?"

Surprised by the question, Starsky looked at Hutch to see what he would say. Hutch didn't look like he wanted one either. They chorused "no" in reply.

"Mr. Wyatt, my partner, Detective Starsky, is here with me to ask you some questions."

"Not officially," Starsky added, wanting to keep the atmosphere pleasant. "It's just that because we're cops--"

"Who are naturally nosy and hear things they shouldn't," Taylor interjected, a crooked smile taking the edge off his words. "I told Raymond he was a damn fool for falling apart like that in the hallway."

"We did our own bit of research," Wyatt added, a bit hoarse after the sip from his drink, his hands shaking slightly. "Harley and I do have our friends here and there. Found out you two are due back from your vacation pretty soon, aren't you?"

Hutch looked at Starsky, amused patience on his face.

_And here I thought we were going to run the show_ , Starsky thought back at him.

"Yes, sir, we are." Hutch walked toward the bed, and Starsky followed him. He could feel Taylor watching them both closely. "You know what we're here to ask, don't you?"

Taylor, still at the fireplace behind them, grunted with what sounded like unhappiness, but didn't say anything.

"Why don't you two have a drink, a small one if you will, pull up those chairs and I'll tell you a story. I'm asking this as a favor, so please remember it's only polite to humor an old man."

Starsky caught Hutch's eye and shrugged; he didn't think they were going to be poisoned, and they could just as well hold the drinks as not.

They both agreed and accepted a straight bourbon, it being the first thing offered. Taylor poured the drinks as Starsky and Hutch pulled up a couple of well-padded, leather chairs close to the bed so the sick man wouldn't have to speak loudly.

After they had settled and he refilled his own glass, Taylor went back to hanging off of the fireplace.

"Many years ago," Wyatt started, weak, watery eyes on them both, "I was a young man with a lot of money. I didn't want to live off my parent's money, nor did I want to be a lawyer, which was the education that they bought and paid for. One day, I came to Reno to spend some time by myself, getting to know my own mind, when I met this idiot over there." He smiled in Taylor's direction.

"Back then, Reno was a pit stop on the way to other places. 'Anywhere but here' was its motto. There was gambling back then, had been for years, but it was a hit-and-miss business. I found that Taylor was here to stake out a plot and build something that was going to bring people into the area. Back then it was only drunken bragging on his part, since he hadn't even gotten the land yet, but there was something to the idea that told me if this total idiot could do it, so could I."

"I told you," Taylor said quietly from his side of the room.

"If you'd had any sense you should have bet on it, if you'd been that sure," Wyatt responded with a laugh. "Anyway, long story short, I decided that I wanted to do the same thing, start a business from scratch and rub his stubby, red-necked nose in it. So I took my family allowance and did just that."

"How come you two didn't go in and open a place together?" Starsky asked, looking from one man to the other.

"Oh, hell," Taylor said with a snort. "Us two...? Get our heads together on any one thing? Nah, we're both too stubborn for that. If we were partners we would've argued ourselves out of business, but as rivals we could give each other a greatly needed kick in the ass once in awhile."

"So we did that, Taylor and I. Did a damn good job, too, even if we never made it down to Las Vegas."

"Haven't made it _yet_ you mean!"

"Along the way, I met and married the most beautiful woman," Wyatt stopped then, his voice getting shaky. He wiped his eyes with a tissue. "Her name was Martha, and she was my heart and soul. We were married for many years and shared the good and bad times. When The Olympus hit its ten million dollar mark in revenue, I had a special present made for her as a birthday surprise. Since we'd chosen the lofty name of 'The Olympus' for the casino, I was known as 'Zeus' and she was 'Hera', the sister and wife of Zeus, the ruler of the gods. Since the sacred symbol of Hera was a peacock, and my wife actually was quite fond of them, I commissioned a golden statue to be made for her. When I presented it to her...."

Wyatt's voice faltered again, and he held the tissue up to his eyes.

"She was a hell of a lady," Taylor muttered, eyes on his boots.

Wyatt took a breath and wiped at his face. "She died a few years later and was cremated. Her ashes are in the vault at the cemetery at the end of town. I foolishly remarried, trying to heal the wound, and had a son. Aaron unfortunately has taken after his mother, who only saw my money. Sarah would brag about how she was the new queen of The Olympus. She was very jealous of my first wife's memory. After a few years, I saw the writing on the wall and prepared to divorce her."

"So you lost the Golden Peacock to Mr. Taylor, so she couldn't touch it in the divorce proceedings," Hutch said softly.

"Smart boys," Taylor said, nodding at them. "Then the son-of-a-bitch turns around and marries again. Only this time I refused to give it back. Never had a good head on his shoulders."

"And for that I thank you," Wyatt said, his eyes still wet from his distant loss. "Barbara was a good lady, but we just weren't meant to be together forever. We did last quite a few years, though, before I divorced again."

"After your second divorce, Taylor lost it back to you," Starsky added, remembering the details from the newspaper articles.

"Yes. After the second time, I vowed never to wed again. I would never find Martha here on Earth, so it was time to quit trying. I then made a promise to her that she would get her beloved peacock back, and that someday hers and my ashes would be mixed in death. Her peacock would be our companion."

"But we waited too damn long," Taylor said roughly, his own voice sounding close to tears. "We thought we still had plenty of years, but Raymond's illness hit so fast--"

"And my son had already taken over so many things behind my back."

"Why can't your wishes be carried out?" Hutch asked, his face showing his puzzlement. "Wouldn't--"

"For insurance purposes, the Golden Peacock is a fixture of the casino, which my son has just taken over. He wants it to give to his mother," Raymond said bitterly. "Sarah will _never_ let it go once it's officially hers."

"But if it disappeared, before your death, it would be considered a loss," Starsky said, feeling the other three men's eyes on him. He felt a weight grow on his shoulders as he worked the rest of the puzzle out. "What better way to have it disappear forever than to have a famous, and uncaught, thief take it right out from under everyone's noses. No one would ever think of desecrating your burial spot looking for it. It would be long gone."

The silence in the room was heavy then, and Starsky could feel guilt wash over him at what he and Hutch had interfered with. How could he not understand the love and longing behind the promise Wyatt had made to his deceased love?

_Now I wish we had stayed out of it. He only wanted it back for her._

"I'm sorry," he said quietly, knowing it wouldn't help.

"We didn't know," Hutch murmured, looking sadly into his own untouched glass. "If we had--"

"If you had, you would have let The Baron walk away with it?" Wyatt asked, sounding very tired and old.

"It was yours to begin with, and your wife should have it back," Starsky answered for them both. "I think that's a private matter we wouldn't choose to interfere with."

All four were silent for a moment, then Wyatt sighed. To Starsky he looked as if he were a man who had reached the end of his road and was too tired to take another step. It made his gut clench to know that he and Hutch had made that road a bit harder for him.

"Don't worry about it; I know you two are good boys. You've always done your best, and that's all life can ask of you. If there were anything to forgive, I would forgive you. But it was the luck of the draw, my friends. It would either work or it wouldn't. But I do have a bit of good news, and I'm glad you're here to share it with Harley."

He sat up then, and both he and Hutch moved to help him, but was waved off.

"What time is it, Harley?"

The portly man checked his watch. "Comin' on four-thirty, Ray. You got somewhere to go?" The tone was soft and teasing.

"Actually, I should have a surprise for you three, if a certain something has arrived at its specified time. And I have no doubts that it has been delivered as promised."

"Maybe we should be going, sir," Hutch said. "I think we've--"

"No, no," Wyatt said quickly, a smile on his face. "It is important that you stay. Harley'll need witnesses. Now that you are here we should use your presence to full advantage."

"You done gone completely round the bend, you old coot." Taylor shook his head.

"Harley, you take these two outside to the back patio and look under the picnic table. I think you're going to be really surprised for once, old man."

"Ray--"

"Harley! Go forth and stop being an ass."

After a small staring match between the two, Taylor gave a dramatic sigh and nodded toward the door. "C'mon, you two. He's impossible. Might as well humor him."

The three of them left Wyatt on the bed and made their way to the back of the house, through a kitchen large enough to hold Starsky's whole apartment. Once out the back door, they followed a small trail through the woods until they came to a clearing. A small grill was set into the ground and a well-used picnic table sat in the middle of it.

Starsky looked at Hutch, both of them exchanging looks of surprise and speculation. Underneath the picnic table was a very large metal suitcase.

Taylor stopped cold, looking at the two of them as if this must be a joke. He signaled for them to retrieve it for him.

The first thing Starsky noticed was how heavy it was. Hutch helped him pull it from under the table and they placed it on top. Both stepped back from it.

"Son-of-a- _bitch_!" Taylor swore happily. "That damn thief he hired really _did_ pull it off!"

Fumbling with the latches, Taylor finally got them undone, flipping open the top.

Starsky felt shocked, almost numb. For the second time in less than twenty-four hours he stood looking at the golden bird.

"I don't understand," Hutch muttered, looking at Starsky with disbelief in his eyes. "How could he have gotten it back?"

"Oh, hell, that other one musta been a copy!" Taylor crowed, laughter in his eyes. "I know Raymond paid the man enough to make a copy or two." Taylor leaned down, pointed to a small scratch mark on the underside of one delicate foot. "See? I scratched that in there years ago. Didn't think to check the one that was found in the toy store."

They heard it then--a sharp, muted crack that chilled Starsky's blood. Leaving the statue where they found it, Starsky and Hutch took off back toward the house.

As they ran through the house, Starsky knew what they would find. 

When they got to the bedroom door they both stopped short.

"Ah, shit, Hutch," Starsky said sadly.

"Don't let him in," Hutch ordered, his voice ragged and low.

Starsky knew Hutch would check to make sure, even though it was clear from the doorway that Wyatt was gone. He turned and carefully grabbed the elderly man who was determined to push his way through.

He ended up holding the shaking, cursing man, feeling the tremors of emotion and shock run through his body.

Hutch was only gone a moment and when he came back to the door, Starsky and Taylor froze, turning to look at him.

"He's gone to Martha," Taylor whispered brokenly, seeing Hutch's face. Taylor tried to push away from Starsky, but Starsky held on to him, feeling the shock in the elderly man's body. "Damn it, Raymond! I thought we had more time than this!" Taylor sobbed raggedly, and the tears came. 

Then, with Hutch's help, he took the desperately weeping man to the front room, sitting him in a chair.

Behind Taylor's back, as the man wept brokenly, Starsky reached for Hutch's hand, gripping it as if his life depended on it.

Just as Hutch gripped his.

***

Hutch quietly looked out the passenger window of the rental car as they made their way to their hotel room. The sun had just started to set, and the traffic got heavier as they neared the strip where their new hotel was. It was going to be a gorgeous night, the weather had cooled off a bit, the sky was clear and it was a Saturday night, when most people would be looking for entertainment and excitement in a city that had its share of both. But all Hutch wanted to do was hide out in their hotel room and hold Starsky.

The two of them hadn't had time to talk about Wyatt's death or the case. He knew they needed to talk about it, but even now Hutch wasn't sure how he felt about the whole thing.

He had known, as well as Starsky had, that Wyatt would be dead when he entered that room. He had been glad that Starsky was able to keep Taylor out of the room. There was no reason Taylor should have to see his friend that way.

He and Starsky had held hands, where Taylor could not see them, as the man mourned. Hutch had needed that contact then, needed to touch, as well as see Starsky there beside him. It was too easy to empathize with what Taylor was feeling.

Taylor had been able to pull himself together fairly quickly. In that beautiful room, in what now felt like an empty house, Taylor admitted to them that Wyatt had hinted that he was ready to go, and would rather take his own life than suffer the pain and humiliation of living this last few months in a hospital room. He also admitted that he had agreed to support Wyatt if that's how he wanted it to go, but he hadn't known that Wyatt had already chosen his time.

"Damn fool took me by surprise," Taylor said quietly. "But I guess a man can never _really_ be ready to let his friends go." Taylor wiped at his eyes. "I just wish he had warned me. But then, he knew I'd be frettin' over him something awful if he did. Probably afraid I'd try to get him to change his mind or somethin'."

Neither Starsky nor Hutch had said anything. Hutch wasn't sure there was anything to say. But Taylor wasn't done with either of them.

"Well, boys, I guess it's up to you two now."

It had been up to them. Hutch had looked at Starsky, could see the mix of emotions and thoughts on his partner's face. But he also saw agreement there. So while Hutch called the police to report the suicide, Starsky had gone to the picnic table, and with Taylor's help, they had put the statue in the trunk of Taylor's car.

When the police came, it had been a simple case of reporting a suicide. Wyatt had killed himself while the three of them were outside. They had been able to vouch that it had come as a surprise to them as well as Taylor. A simple note in Wyatt's left hand, saying that it had been his choice and no one, not even Taylor, had known what was to happen, was enough to close the case. All that had been left to do was keep Taylor company while Wyatt's body was removed and his son was contacted. Then they were left with the inevitable statement to be taken down at the station and escorting Taylor home. 

The radio was already ablaze with the news of the suicide, so Starsky had shut it off.

As Starsky pulled into the parking lot of the hotel, Hutch suddenly decided what he wanted to do.

"Let's pack it up, Starsk," Hutch said, before Starsky could even open the car door.

"What?"

"You go in and pack up our stuff, then meet me at the car."

Starsky sighed tiredly. "If you're going to get weird, Hutch, I don't know if I'm up to it."

"Trust me, okay?"

That got a smile. "Dummy."

Starsky left for their rooms after Hutch tossed him his key. In the office, he borrowed the phone and a phone book, making reservations for the night and placing other orders. He got back to the car just as Starsky came up with their carry-alls. 

"We checked out?" Starsky asked as he threw the bags in the back seat.

"Nope," Hutch said, feeling better than he had in hours. " _We_ are still checked in and just need to turn in our keys tomorrow. But _I_ am checked in to The Olympus."

Hutch got into the car, noticing that Starsky seemed to hesitate. Hutch watched as he got in, concern on his face as he settled behind the wheel. "But Hutch, Wyatt--"

"Is dead. By his own hand and by his own choice," Hutch said quietly, putting a hand on his shoulder. "Starsk, Wyatt lived his life, and he didn't have much time left. All he wanted was to have the Golden Peacock to give back to his wife and ensure that they both would be left to rest in peace. Taylor will make sure of that now. I think Wyatt would rather we remember him fondly and enjoy ourselves rather than mourn him."

Starsky was silent for a moment, eyes on the keys in his hand. Hutch could tell he was trying to process it all, decide how he felt about things. A crooked smile grew across his face. Giving a nod, he put the keys in the ignition. 

"So about this room of yours, you up for some company?" Starsky asked, his voice teasing.

"Oh, not tonight, definitely," Hutch said with mock seriousness. "I have a hot time planned for my spoiled lover. I have a feeling he's going to keep me much too busy for company."

"Ain't that the truth?" Starsky's grin grew into a delighted smile. "And I guess you're right. Wyatt got to choose how he got to go; lots of people never get that. I bet he's happier now than he's been since Martha died."

"So, let's go to The Olympus, get settled into my room and get some dinner. I think we're going to need our strength."

***

The Olympus was even busier than usual, which didn't surprise Starsky at all. The man had just killed himself, the Golden Peacock was supposed to be on display for the last time, and it was a Saturday night. 

And Starsky had to admit to himself that curiosity was about to kill him. So as soon as Hutch headed to the hotel check-in desk, Starsky waited by the line set up for visitors to see the Golden Peacock one last time before it was retired.

_Wonder if I'll be able to tell the difference,_ he mused. _Probably not_. _The Baron wouldn't skimp on quality if it meant the copy could pass muster. If they ever do find out it's a fake, then they'll figure The Baron has it._

As he waited outside of the tourist line for the display, he mused about how the whole thing made sense once they had all the pieces.

_If Hutch and I hadn't caught on, someone else would have found it. He never did need us. The fake had to be found for people to think the Golden Peacock is back where it belongs, especially Wyatt's son. He guessed we'd never know where the real one was while we were finding the copy. I have to admit, The Baron sure had this well planned._

Hutch joined him after a few minutes, and they both entered the line. They made small talk while they waited, which actually didn't take that long.

The fake was impressive, in its purple nest. Starsky hadn't really gotten a good look at either statue, but close up it was a gorgeous piece of work. It really had been a gift of love and adoration from Wyatt to his wife, if this copy was any indication. He could imagine how hard it must have been for Wyatt to lose her.

They didn't look very long, as there was still a line behind them.

As Hutch turned toward the elevator, Starsky followed. It was too crowded for conversation, so Starsky just settled for flashing Hutch some lecherous glances when no one else was looking. 

The floor they got off on was wide and impressive, the rooms farther apart than usual, which told Starsky their room was going to be pretty good sized. When the door was opened, Starsky felt like his eyebrows must be disappearing into his hairline. While he was expecting something fancy, he wasn't expecting something so...well...tropical.

At least, that was the only word Starsky could bring to mind.

The room was on two levels, steps leading from the door down to the bedroom level. The room was large and full of plants, what must be hundreds of them---around the walls, hanging from the ceiling, and bunched up in the corners. There were small trees, exotic bushes, and bright flowers in the mix. The walls were warm, green colors that were echoed in the bedspread. The bed itself was huge, with a frame and canopy of what looked like bamboo, with a generous curtain of thin, filmy material that looked like the mosquito netting Starsky had seen in television shows with jungles in them. Even the couch, the table, and the television cabinet were done in bamboo. The outside wall looked like one large window, with a sliding glass door that opened to a wide balcony with a panoramic view of the city visible over the top of the solid railing.

_You could hold a whole party out there!_ Starsky thought in surprise.

Turning to look at Hutch, Starsky could see he was just as surprised as he was at the jungle set up. As Hutch glanced at him, and their eyes met, they both burst into laughter.

"Hutch, you know I love you," Starsky began, trying to talk around his chuckles, "but if you think you're gonna get me to swing around the room on a vine, I think we're both going to be in for a big disappointment."

Hutch, eyes bright and smile wide, looked at him with amusement. He held up his hands in surrender. "Honest, Starsk, I asked for a nice room and they told me they had one with a jungle theme. I didn't know it was going to be like _this_! But I think," Hutch leaned close, putting an arm around his waist, "that I'm going to really like it."

"Pervert," Starsky said with a smile, even as he rolled his eyes. "But this has got to be costing--"

"Don't start!" Hutch ordered, kissing him on the cheek. "This trip may have been your idea, but I'd like to make this more of 'our' vacation. Least I can do."

"I'm beginning to think you have a secret kink for hotel rooms," Starsky said in his best Mae West imitation.

Hutch, still smiling, gave him a wicked wink and walked down the stairs. Starsky followed, looking in amazement at all the plant life. He walked to the bathroom and pushed open the door as Hutch was throwing his case on the bed. 

"Hey, lookit, Hutch! This bathroom is _great_!"

Starsky could only stand and stare at the room. he'd been in big, expensive hotel rooms before and this one matched the best of them. The shower was glass enclosed and large enough for two. The counter had two sinks, the john was enclosed in its own space and the tub looked like you could drown in it.

Hutch came up behind him to look around the room, carrying what looked like towels. "Has possibilities," he murmured happily. "You feel like a shower?"

"I like the feel of _you_ in a shower," Starsky replied with a leer.

Hutch's smile was electric, and before he knew it, they were racing to remove their clothing, ending in a tie.

Picking through the gift basket, Starsky picked out some soaps and shampoos that looked interesting while Hutch got the water started.

Starsky followed Hutch into the hot spray, putting the little bottles and soap up on a small shelf, then turned around to pull Hutch's wet, naked body into his arms. Kissing tenderly, Hutch suddenly pulled him around until both their heads were under the heavy spray, making Starsky feel like he was kissing under a waterfall. 

Gasping around a face full of water, Starsky pulled away, laughing, loving it when Hutch started to horse around.

"C'mere, ya big lug." Starsky grabbed one of the small shampoo bottles. "Let me do your hair for you." 

"As long as I get to return the favor."

Pouring a generous amount in his hand, he moved to stand behind Hutch, once again admiring the view of smooth, tan skin and tight, ample buttocks. He couldn't help but lean his crotch against that inviting ass, as he reached up and started to massage Hutch's scalp, lathering up the fine blond hair.

He could feel Hutch relax into it, his eyes closing and his head falling back to allow Starsky more access as he stood with the spray hitting his chest. Starsky moved his massage down the back of Hutch's neck, spreading the slick shampoo over the broad shoulders.

Hutch sighed and Starsky could feel the residual tension of the day leave his muscles.

As Starsky got to Hutch's mid back, Hutch turned around and took him in his arms, kissing him gently once again, but this time with no horseplay. As they tasted each other gently Starsky moved his soapy hand to Hutch's chest, running his fingers in small circles, feeling the movements mirrored by the firm fingers on his ass. Their cocks rubbed together, still soft but growing firmer with every minute that passed.

After they broke for air Hutch leaned backward, head under the spray, reaching up to wash out the thick lather that Starsky had created. Smiling softly, Hutch turned them both around until Starsky was under the spray.

The water was hot and relaxing. Soon Starsky felt soapy fingers in his hair and leaned back into them, enjoying the caress as Hutch washed his hair. Before long, those fingers were at his shoulders, then a soapy washcloth was at his chest and arms, moving around and across his body in firm, sure circles. Leaning back onto Hutch, Starsky relaxed and as the large hands worked the washcloth down his stomach, Starsky reached back and braced himself on Hutch's hips, spreading his legs farther apart so Hutch could reach him.

The washcloth was warm and slick as it engulfed him, rubbing delicious circles up and around his cock, then down to cup and roll his balls in a careful grip.

His cock grew hard under the warm water and soapy handling, and he could feel Hutch's interest growing against his ass. When the washcloth moved around behind him, he followed Hutch's directions to lean forward, the spray washing the soap off of him as Hutch worked the washcloth between his ass cheeks, Starsky arching to allow more access to his center, palms bracing himself against the slick, wet wall in front of him.

The washcloth disappeared and was replaced by a slick finger that rubbed a moment at his perineum, making Starsky moan with pleasure. The finger then found his center, rubbing at his entrance, as Starsky shifted once more spreading and arching himself to encourage the attention.

The finger entered him shallowly, moving around even as Hutch's other hand came around to find his half-hard cock.

"Come for me, babe," was whispered in his ear, Hutch's voice rough and commanding. "I want to see you come for me."

Starsky groaned, eyes closed under the spray, long, wet ringlets plastered against his face. The heat from the water cascaded down his body, relaxing him as the hand on his cock and the finger up his ass excited other nerves. The first finger was joined by a second, and the searching turned to thrusting just as Hutch's other hand increased its pace.

His cock grew heavy and hard between his legs, and the urge to thrust into the pumping hand increased until he found himself rocking slightly, trying to fuck Hutch's hand as Hutch's fingers were gently fucking him.

He didn't know how long they moved that way, how long he held out before it went from a slow burn to a burning need in his nerves, in his gut. He found himself humping harder into that firm hand, impaling himself deeply on those fingers, until his gut exploded and he froze, feeling Hutch's movements grow gentle as he ejaculated, the strong fingers milking him as the waves passed through him.

Mind blank, knees weak and body glowing with completion, Starsky felt himself being pulled away from the wall and out of the spray. Before he knew it, he was being wrapped in thick, warm towels and perched on the lid of the toilet, a second towel dropped over his dripping head.

He tried to protest that Hutch hadn't gotten the attention he deserved, but when he pushed the towel away from his eyes, he saw Hutch back in the shower--only he was doing more than rinsing off.

Hutch stood just in the open doorway of the shower. The spray hitting the tall, lean body collected in hundreds of thick trickles of water that ran over him, a bit of spray showering into the bathroom as Hutch moved. His head was thrown back, his eyes closed, long, blond tendrils covering his neck and shoulders, some curling around his ears and forehead.

With a look of rapture and lust on his face, Hutch was touching himself. Long fingers touched his chest, rubbing at nipples. The other hand was wrapped around his cock, alternately pulling and rubbing, jerking himself off in front of Starsky.

Even in his spent state it was mesmerizing. All Starsky could do was sit under the towels and watch as Hutch got closer and closer to his finish. It took but a moment, then Hutch grunted deeply, squeezing at the base of his cock. Long, thick jets of white cum erupted, only to be lost in the spray from the shower.

Swallowing thickly at the sight, Starsky looked up to meet Hutch's smiling, warm eyes. "Dry off, buddy. The night's not over yet," Hutch promised seductively. Then with a wink, he shut the shower door.

Warm, dry and wrapped in a soft robe, Starsky took a few minutes to look around the room some more. The TV cabinet held a large color TV; the curtains pulled back to reveal huge windows that showed a substantial portion of the downtown area. The sun was setting now, and already the street and marquee lights were on and were starting to sparkle.

Just as Hutch came out of the bathroom, there was a knock at the door.

"Oops, they're early. Starsk, would you mind?" Hutch waved toward the bathroom. "I've got a surprise to set up, so you'll need to hang loose for a few minutes."

"Sure," Starsky said, feeling the thrill of a surprise as he closed the bathroom door behind him.

The walls were fairly thick for a hotel room, so Starsky had a hard time hearing more than a minute of muted conversation. While he was waiting he combed his hair again, checked his teeth and gargled again, finding that curiosity was keeping him from a settled, quiet wait.

When the knock on the door came, Starsky had to keep from bolting out to see what Hutch had been up to.

The room was now dark, with only the lamp on the bamboo nightstand lit on a low setting. Starsky looked around curiously, but could see nothing out of place or new, other than that the curtains were closed.

Hutch walked up to him, kissing him gently and nuzzling his ear.

"You hungry?" Hutch whispered.

"Sure. What'cha got in mind?"

"In the mood for a floor show?"

"In here? Like this?" Starsky asked in surprise.

"Sure." Taking Starsky's arm, Hutch pulled him toward the balcony.

Before he got to the glass doors, Starsky stopped and did a double-take. Hutch slid the door open and Starsky could only confirm what he saw.

There, out on the wide balcony, was a table covered in white linen with two places set in fine china and shiny silverware. There were two crystal glasses at each setting, one full with what looked like water and the other was empty. A bottle of wine sat toward the center of the table next to two lit candles, the flames moving gently in the breeze.

"Hutch, this is...this is _wonderful_!" Starsky managed to say, his heart in his throat.

"I know how much you like the lights, so I thought we could have a quiet dinner and watch the city. It is kind of pretty. Here, sit down and I'll get our dinner ready."

The view was spectacular, and even though Starsky didn't care for heights, he couldn't help but be drawn to the setting. Smiling, Hutch stood near him, apparently willing to wait until Starsky was comfortable enough to enter the area. 

As he stepped onto the balcony, he saw the dinner cart over in the corner. As he walked to the table, he realized that the height didn't bother him, not with Hutch so near. Sitting down, Starsky watched in appreciative silence as Hutch shut the balcony door, leaving them in candlelit darkness, with a twinkling background of the multi-colored lights of the city all around them, including the reflections in the glass.

Hutch opened the wine and tasted a sample of the clear, white liquid, nodding with agreement at the taste. He poured Starsky a glass, then set about putting large, lid-covered plates on the table, followed by a small salad and a basket of rolls. Then came a container of melted butter, salt, pepper and Starsky's favorite dressing.

With a flourish, Hutch removed the lid from Starsky's plate.

"A whole lobster, just like you like it, with plenty of butter and rice pilaf. I, on the other hand, am having lobster scampi," Hutch grinned at him.

"Hutch...this is...." He knew he had said it before--how wonderful this was--but suddenly words just didn't seem enough.

"It's no more than you deserve, lover." As he sat on the other side of the table, the flickering candlelight making him glow like gold. Hutch's blue eyes grew serious, holding Starsky's eyes, making the lump in Starsky's throat grow even harder to swallow around. 

"Starsk, I know I'm not easy to be around, sometimes," Hutch said quietly. "I know I have my faults, and sometimes I forget to catch myself when I get nasty. But I love you more than anyone else in my life...." Starsky watched as Hutch's eyes grew misty, his voice faltered. "I never want you to forget that." Hutch swallowed thickly.

Starsky reached out over the table and took the hand Hutch offered.

"I know," Starsky admitted, gripping Hutch's hand tightly. "It's not gonna be easy for us out there, Hutch. It wasn't easy even before we found we were in love. We're cops; it goes with the territory. But as long as we remember that we've got each other, we'll get through the hard times."

With his other hand Hutch picked up his wine glass. "Here's to us, and to never forgetting what's really important."

"To us."

Their glasses clinked and as they let each other go, Starsky turned his attention to his plate, knowing the moment was too heavy to continue much longer without them forgetting about dinner entirely.

They ate quietly, remarking on the food and wine, but mostly enjoying the view of the city. Even with the moon up, the view was dazzling. From where he sat, Starsky could see most of the main strip and a lot of the movement on the streets below. While a few street sounds made their way up, it was mostly quiet, and they were lucky that no other rooms in their view had anyone taking advantage of their balcony. For all intents and purposes they were alone, with the whole city below them. 

The food was wonderful and the wine delicious. By the time he finished, Starsky felt as if he had had the best meal in ages.

Hutch seemed to enjoy his meal also, and after they were both finished, they poured more wine and went to the railing. Starsky put his arm around Hutch while holding his drink in the other hand, feeling safe enough to stand at the rail with Hutch next to him.

They talked awhile, about small things, about their vacation, about Wyatt and Taylor, and what The Baron must have gotten out of the deal.

They did a little soul searching, deciding that they couldn't have done anything but walk away from the situation. They wondered why The Baron had taken the job in the first place, since it had never been said that the items he stole had ever ended up with third parties.

They talked about Wyatt and the love he had for his first wife, and what it must have meant to him to have a friend like Taylor. They worried about Taylor a bit and hoped that he, too, had friends who would stand by him just as firmly.

By the end of the bottle, both decided it was time to go in.

Hutch saved a few things from the cart on the coffee table, then put the cart outside the door. Starsky had opened the curtains, still enjoying the view. Only from his place in the middle of the bed he saw more mountain range and dark sky than anything else. And once in a while, he chose to believe a twinkle of lights were stars rather than late-night flights.

Shedding his robe and throwing it on the couch, Hutch joined Starsky in the middle of the huge bed. The two of them wrapped around each other, Starsky enjoying the warmth of the beautiful body in his arms, the clean, wind-swept smell of Hutch's hair and the hint of cream in Hutch's mouth.

Starsky bit and nibbled his way down Hutch's neck, as Hutch explored every crevice and nook of Starsky's body. Nerves were awakened and excited, bodies were kneaded and massaged, and even now new places of pleasure giving were discovered.

They moved into a sixty-nine position, Starsky taking Hutch's cock in his mouth, sucking in the sweet flesh and the bitter pre-cum. He heard Hutch moaning low as he played with it, licking and sucking up and down, nibbling at the soft, nearly hairless sac underneath.

His own cock was hard and happy in Hutch's mouth, making Starsky pause at intervals, parts of his mind going haywire at certain touches and licks.

When they both came for the second time that evening, it was together, with low and deep moans and whispers of love.

They lazed quietly afterward, holding each other, but neither drifted off to sleep. This was their last night of vacation, and Starsky knew that even though they had until check-out time the next day to lie in bed, neither of them were ready to call it a night. Their future, always uncertain, meant that there was no telling when they could be together this way again and would have to settle for quick sessions during "lunches" at home or at the end of stressful days. There was no foreseeing if they would spend more nights apart than together once they got home, so tonight was too important to waste in sleep.

After they had been quiet for a while, Hutch pulled away and got out of bed, opening the television cabinet and turning on the TV.

"You in a TV mood?" Starsky asked, moving to lie on his stomach at the end of the bed.

"Better than that, they have adult movies piped into these rooms," Hutch flipped through the channels and stopped on one that clearly had some adult activities in progress.

"Hey, our own porno theater!" Starsky laughed, watching a youngish guy in the middle of licking at a very blonde woman's large, naked breasts.

Hutch went into the bathroom and came back with two glasses, then stopped and picked up the covered plate he had kept from the cart. Handing the plate and glasses to Starsky, he lifted the lid.

"Milk and cookies to go with your porn, little boy."

Starsky barked in laugher, almost upsetting the plate of chocolate chip cookies, and was joined by Hutch, who was on his way back for the milk.

"I _knew_ you were a pervert!" Starsky crowed delightedly, snagging a cookie and holding his glass out for his share of the milk. "You're just taking advantage of my youth--"

"And your horniness."

"--to have your evil way with me."

"Too true," Hutch agreed, setting the pitcher on the nightstand and carefully balancing his glass of milk as he crawled onto the bed to join his partner.

"They have a gay channel?"

"Just got the one, buddy, and I'm guessing we're not going to see too much gay male action. Why, you need some pointers?"

"No, but I was hoping to find you some," Starsky said, smiling mischievously at Hutch.

"Complaining are we? I think someone could end up regretting that remark if he doesn't watch out."

Laughing, they watched the porn for a while, making snide and lewd comments about the male and female actors, the sets, and the whole porn industry in general.

Starsky enjoyed himself, loving the way Hutch was smiling and laughing. After the milk and cookies were gone, Starsky unashamedly eating a lot more than his fair share, both lay on their stomachs and watched for a while. 

Even with their laughing and lewd remarks, Starsky soon found himself growing warm with desire, his cock growing hard under him. And it struck him how lopsided things where when mixed in the various straight scenes, were the girl-on-girl scenes. There were no scenes with guys getting it on with each other.

_Says a lot about society--that lesbian scenes are par for the course, but two naked men in a room have to make sure they never touch. That doesn't sound right!_

Not that he didn't thoroughly enjoy the girl-on-girl scenes. If one girl was good, two were even better! But he had never before realized how unfair it was.

As the scene played on before him, Starsky felt the bed move a little. Glancing over, Starsky felt himself blush a bit as he realized that Hutch, eyes closed, was flexing his hips slightly, humping the bed, a blissful expression on his features that matched the slight flush of his cheeks.

Giving up on the movie, Starsky rolled to his side, touching his own erection lightly as he watched with growing fascination the flexing muscles of Hutch's ass, the way his thighs were parted and the almost hypnotic movement as he thrust slowly against the bed.

And the longer Starsky watched, the more he found it erotic and wonderfully lewd. He hadn't realized how little he had seen Hutch from this angle, moving so sexually and looking so hot and bothered. Hutch's eyes were open to slits, watching Starsky watch him, an almost embarrassed smile on his full lips.

Starsky knew he must be flushing crazily himself, his hand soothing his own cock that seemed very, very interested in what Hutch was doing.

Hutch stopped the movement, stretched his long arms and legs, humming as he did so.

"Man," Hutch murmured afterward, almost purring, "do I ever feel like _fucking_."

Starsky swallowed at the announcement, growing even hornier at the sound of Hutch being verbally naughty. Unable to stop himself, Starsky reached over and gripped Hutch's ass cheek, squeezing it. "Be my guest," he whispered thickly.

"Oh, I intend to," Hutch said, eyeing Starsky's body hotly. "I have some plans for that evil, sexy ass of yours."

Before he knew it Hutch was upon him, putting his full weight on Starsky, his mouth at the tender spot at the crook of his neck. Starsky wiggled at the onslaught, laughing but turned on as well. Then suddenly, Hutch was up and out of the bed, his hard cock bobbing as he moved.

Striding over to the cabinet, he turned off the television then threw the couch cushions on the floor in front of the balcony door. Hutch then pulled a sheet off the bed, making Starsky move as he did so, then threw the sheet over the cushions. Carefully moving the coffee table closer to the cushions, Hutch then opened the sliding door, and a cool waft of desert-scented wind blew softly around the room, gently rustling the leaves on the dozens of plants throughout the room.

Walking over to the lamp, which had only given out a very dim light to this point, Hutch clicked it off.

As the room was plunged into darkness with only the faint glow of the city behind the balcony railing, Starsky shivered at the sound of the rustling plants in the darkness.

_It sounds like we're in the wilderness_ , he thought in surprise. _Like we're the only two people in the world._

He startled as Hutch gently touched his arm, and as his eyes adjusted, he could see him outlined faintly.

Letting Hutch lead him, Starsky found himself facedown on the sheet-covered cushions, half in/half out of the balcony doors. Starsky shivered in anticipation, the gentle breeze and the stronger smell of plants and soil making him feel as if he really were outside, as if they really were alone in the jungle somewhere, bare-assed naked and hornier than hell.

Hutch carefully positioned him on hands and knees, both cushioned well against the hard floor, Starsky finding the upper half of his body out on the balcony itself.

"No one can see us from here," Hutch whispered huskily into his ear, his body feeling even hotter to Starsky in contrast to the cool breeze. "We can do what we want and they can't see us unless we stand up."

Glancing up Starsky was thrilled to see it was true, seeing only the underside of other balconies within his view. And at this point, with Hutch's hot hand roaming his exposed body, Starsky wouldn't have cared if they could. This felt too wild--too primal--to want to stop.

Hutch was behind him now, pushing his shoulders down, spreading Starsky's ass cheeks farther apart.

Starsky felt Hutch's mouth on him like fire, the hot tongue making wet, wide circles on his right ass cheek.

"You branded me, now it's my turn to brand you," Hutch said, voice rough and serious. "You're _mine_ , and no one else can ever touch you again."

Head on his folded arms, Starsky shivered again; he could feel his cock throb at the seriousness of the words. He gasped as Hutch grabbed his balls in a tight grip, making him spread his legs even wider apart as his sac was pulled down gently, making Starsky follow the grip.

Then the mouth was on his left cheek, only this time a tiny amount of skin on his ass was sucked into Hutch's mouth, sucked on almost to the edge of pain, then let go with a soothing lick. Without letting go of the firm grip on Starsky's testicles, Hutch repeated the process, attacking the skin in one, thin line. It wasn't until Hutch started on a second line that he realized what Hutch was doing.

Tomorrow, Starsky knew with certainly, he was going to have one large H-shaped hickey, smack in the middle of his left ass cheek.

And Starsky bit his lip then, wanting to both laugh and moan at the exotic rightness of it, knowing that for as long as it lasted it would be the most wonderful thing that he owned, but also the most frustrating, because he couldn't show it off.

Hutch must have realized he had figured it out, because he chuckled deeply as he continued his branding.

After a few minutes, the "H" now feeling obvious on the sensitive skin of his ass, Hutch released his balls after giving the area a soft kiss. Then Hutch pulled back away from him.

Starsky was hard now, desperate for Hutch to touch him once more, and he must have moaned aloud, for Hutch's hand was on his other cheek, rubbing it softly.

"Hold on, babe, I'm still here."

As he waited, Starsky listened to the breeze and the plants as they danced to the movement, hearing only faint sounds of the civilization below them, feeling the hairs on his body move to the same breezes. He felt heady with it, excited and aching for Hutch's hands and his cock.

He didn't have to wait long, as something gentle and oily touched his opening, rubbing at the thin, tender flesh.

Starsky groaned out loud, deeply, his mind centering and focusing on the slick, firm administration. The greasy finger, which Starsky realized was coated with the left-over butter from his lobster dinner, entered him carefully, twisting to coat the ring of muscle inside.

Then the finger left and before Starsky could react, his hips were pulled upward, his cheeks pulled as far apart as possible and a tongue touched him.

"Ah, Hutch!" Starsky gasped, the electric shock of it jolting him with pleasure.

Hutch gripped him harder, the tongue suddenly probing deeper and deeper until Starsky thought he would faint from the sensation of it.

He had no idea how long it lasted, or how much longer he could have stood such attention. Before he could get his thoughts together, on the edge of sanity, the tongue left him and in its place was the slick, flaring head of Hutch's cock.

" _Fuck_ me," Starsky heard himself moan desperately. " _Please!_ "

Starsky gasped as Hutch pushed through the ring of muscle then stopped. It felt so good, yet so impossibly huge at the same time. Breathing deeply, Starsky willed himself to relax, and after a moment could feel the muscles obey him. He groaned loudly, as Hutch slid more into him, then stopped. He could hear Hutch behind him, almost feel the deep humming from Hutch through their connection points of hands and cock.

Hutch pushed the rest of the way in, Starsky lost in the feeling of the cock smoothly filling him up. They stayed that way for a moment, both of them panting, Starsky's heart loud in his ears. Then Hutch started to move and Starsky moved with him.

Hutch started slowly, pulling out, then sliding carefully back in, jolting that ring of muscle every time he did so. As the push and pull on Starsky's insides grew faster, Starsky felt his own cock grow hard again, not having realized it had ever started to go soft.

"yes...yes... _do_ -me... _do_ -me...oh... _yes_...deeper... _deeper_!" Starsky chanted, then gasped as Hutch complied, changing his angle until Starsky's prostate flared, shocking him with the pleasure of it. Hutch continued to push deeply, but soon was moving too quickly to pull completely out anymore. Instead, he continued to keep steady pressure on Starsky's prostate.

What he might have said after that Starsky had no idea, his mind and body flying too high to keep track of all the wonderful sensations that were pulsing through him. When Hutch grabbed his cock in a grease-slicked hand and pulled at it roughly, Starsky felt he would die from it, teetering on the edge of falling into a bottomless orgasm. Starsky called for Hutch, needing him inside and outside, and in two quick, hard push/pulls on his cock, Starsky's body and mind hit that invisible wall and fell, jerking and thrashing as his body responded in release.

As his climax flowed through him in rolling waves and his cock pulsed as he covered the sheets under him with his cum, Starsky could feel Hutch's hands at his hips, holding his spasming body in place as Hutch pounded frantically into him.

Starsky heard him gasp loudly, as if he were drowning, felt the wild cock inside him swell even more as Hutch fell forward, burying himself inside Starsky as far as humanly possible.

"Stars...stars...stars...starssssssssssKKK-UH!"

As the yell reverberated around the room they both collapsed, still connected, bodies still twitching.

Starsky remembered rolling them on their sides, Hutch's weight too much to take, leaving Hutch spooned behind him, every inch of available skin plastered together, Hutch panting deeply against the nape of his neck.

Then as their breathing slowed and their bodies relaxed, Starsky once again noticed the cool breeze blowing over their naked bodies, the sounds of the plants rustling and the caress of Hutch's breath on the back of his neck.

They were the only people left in the world--in the universe--and, as he drifted off with Hutch's strong arm around him, he could feel his lover still deep inside him.

Just where he needed him to be.

***

Starsky found himself whistling happily as he pulled his and Hutch's bags out of the back seat of the rental car. Of all the things he was going to miss about being on vacation, this car wasn't going to be one of them.

They had cut it close, spending all morning at The Olympus in that huge bed, Starsky still unsure how they had gotten back into it. They had been messing around in between feeding each other their room service breakfast. They then had had to shower quickly when they realized how close to check-out time they were. Still, Starsky had taken a few moments to admire the letter on his ass, and for the rest of the afternoon he seemed to feel it every time he moved, loving the fact that only the two of them knew it was there.

After checking out of The Olympus, with Starsky stopping to buy a postcard of the Golden Peacock for a souvenir, they hurried to the hotel the Reno PD had paid for and checked out of it. He had to agree with Hutch's plans--that if anyone asked, they'd been out all night and had come back to those separate rooms. They'd gathered enough official attention that it wouldn't hurt to play it safe.

They then stopped by the PD to put their signatures on the finished statements, both for the original heist and for Wyatt's death. They were able to learn that Wyatt's son had planned for his father to be cremated and a memorial service was to be held on Tuesday. Starsky knew that with Taylor in the background, things would go as Wyatt wanted. That thought made him feel better about the whole thing.

They also found that Smithson and Palmer were off duty. Starsky wished they'd had the chance to say good-bye, but both he and Hutch were loath to track the two cops down just to give their good-byes.

They spent the rest of the afternoon at the movies, Starsky pleased that Hutch didn't mind spending the last afternoon of their vacation that way. By then, they'd both had their fill of gambling and hanging around casinos, so sitting in the theater and eating too much popcorn seemed like a nice, calm way to end their trip.

He signed the car back in with the rental agent and turned in the keys.

"I got the tickets," Hutch announced as he walked up to Starsky in the busy airport. "Boarding is in forty minutes, so we don't have to rush."

"That's good. It'll give me a chance to check out the gift shop."

"Gift shop?" Hutch looked at him sternly. "You mean we've been running around this city for days, you've taken about a hundred pictures, and _now_ you're worried about getting souvenirs?"

"Sure," Starsky said with a smile as he picked up his bag, "that way you don't have to carry a bunch of stuff around all the time and none of it will get crushed or broken 'cause it was smashed in your suitcase. _Plus_ , you don't know what the best souvenirs are going to be if you haven't had a chance to have your vacation."

Hutch gave him a look of disbelief, but followed him to the shop anyway.

"Hey, there you are!" a voice yelled across the busy terminal. "Starsky! Hutchinson! Wait up!"

They turned and Starsky saw Palmer and Smithson running in their direction.

"Hey, what are you guys doing here?" Hutch asked with a smile, holding his hand out for them to shake.

"Just found out from the station that you guys were on your way out this afternoon. Tried to catch you at the hotel but you'd already checked out." Smithson shook their hands. "Palmer and I wanted to say good-bye before you left."

"Yeah, just in case we want to get down to Bay City sometime, we thought we'd be better off if we had some friends down that way. Anytime we travel, we seem to attract trouble."

Starsky laughed with Hutch. "Yeah, we get that feeling at times, too."

"So, you guys on the square with your captain?" Palmer asked. "I bet he wasn't too happy to find you two needed a couple more days off."

"Oh, sure, he's fine with it," Hutch answered quickly. "We get loaned out to other departments all the time, so as long as we were being useful he was okay with it."

"Not that we won't get the third degree as soon as we walk into the station tomorrow," Starsky added. "But at least we have a valid excuse."

Smithson smiled. "I think you two have someone else to watch out for, because The Baron will know you helped thwart his plans once again. 

"I don't think The Baron is that concerned with us," Hutch said, but to Starsky he didn't sound very sure of that.

They talked for a while longer, then Palmer and Smithson took their leave, shaking hands all around once more. Finding they had only a few minutes left, Starsky had to make due with some postcards to add to the one of the Golden Peacock he had already bought, along with a couple of packs of used cards from one of the casinos, and a tour booklet of Virginia City to go along with all the pictures he'd taken. The cashier was counting out his change just as their flight number was called. 

Walking down the terminal to their gate they got in line, Starsky hoping that this flight wouldn't be too crowded. He hoped that he and Hutch could talk on the way without too much distraction.

"Well, hello, gentlemen!"

Starsky winced, recognizing the voice. A glance at Hutch, who was looking over his shoulder, told him his identification had been correct.

"Hello, Roger," Hutch said politely. "Imagine seeing you here."

Turning, Starsky saw Roger Martini walking their way. His stomach dropped at the sight of a ticket in his hand.

"Isn't this a coincidence?" Roger exclaimed, all smiles under the unruly hair, thick glasses and messy mustache. "Looks like we're all headed home on the same plane!"

"I...uh...thought you were here for a divorce?" Starsky asked, wondering if the question was going to be a mistake. Did he really want to know?

"Oh, well...yes.... You see, my wife and I have been talking this weekend, and have decided to make another go at it. You see, it all started when...."

Tuning Roger out, Starsky looked at Hutch, who was equally lost as to how to get rid of this guy.

_Well,_ Starsky thought, wondering where he and Hutch were sitting in relation to Roger _. If nothing else, I'm now more ready to get off that plane and end my vacation than I was a few minutes ago._

_I only hope we're on opposite sides of the plane!_

***

Safely on the plane to Bay City, in coach nonetheless, The Baron refrained from lighting one of his cigars and settled for a cigarette instead. He ignored the chatty lady in the seat next to him, letting her rattle on as much as she pleased. He contented himself with watching the tops of the clouds from the window while he could.

_Not my finest moment, by any means, but certainly not my worst_ , he mused, his mind going over the events of the last month in minute detail. He would usually dissect any of his heists in a minute-by-minute fashion, until he had every move memorized and analyzed to his content. 

He remembered the excitement of dodging the two detectives as he made his way to the back of the toy store, feigning a violent sickness to hide the sounds of cutting through the drywall. It had taken him a few precious weeks of study to find the small flaw in the casino's blueprints that left a big enough gap between the main floor and the basement ceiling that had allowed him to drop silently into the room where the Golden Peacock was being worked on.

He also remembered waiting outside, heart in his throat, as the police arrived along with the fire department. It had taken a couple of hours for the hotel guests to be let back in. The wait to see if his plan had worked, or failed, seemed to be the longest minutes of his life. It had been an adrenaline rush such as he hadn't had in far too long.

When he was finally allowed in with the rest of the guests, he had not been surprised to see that the fake had been discovered. 

_Those two certainly helped my project along. I should have told Raymond what I had planned, even though he insisted on not knowing what I was going to do. I shouldn't have worried him so._

He had not planned on Raymond Wyatt coming to the scene of the crime, or he would have warned him that there would be a fake involved. He would never have intentionally worried the elderly man that way. But Raymond Wyatt never did do what others expected of him, especially when it was family he was dealing with.

_At least you had company in your last few hours, dear cousin, even if it wasn't any of your estranged family. And I know Harley Taylor will do what he needs to do to reunite you with your wife's remains--and her gift. For if he doesn't, he'll know that the gift will not remain in his possession very long._

_ _ _But what of Starsky and Hutchinson? Do they even know who really won this game?_

A part of him hoped that Raymond had given Taylor the Golden Peacock before the detectives arrived, but another part of him hoped that they knew they had been well used. It would be only small compensation for them causing him to lose the diamonds he had had his heart set on.

_Maybe next time we shall be able to even the score a bit more._

And there would certainly be a "next time" The Baron vowed. He enjoyed the excitement they brought to the game.

Otherwise, why even play?

 


End file.
